Feint Within A Feint
by Nuitari Aquarius
Summary: Someone has decided to change Artemis Entreri's, Jarlaxle's and Drizzt's destiny. How will they react ?
1. Prologue

Prequel to Pillow-Talk

Some reviews (so nice...!) told me to try to write something longer, or to have a try on a pillow-talk prequel. Here we are. I had to think about it a long time before saying "okay, where is my English dictionary?".

Well, here is the revelation, my _dark secret_ : I'm... French! Yeah, yeah, with a beret, a baguette and a bottle of red wine. So understand that a frog like me does a lot of orthographic and grammar faults.

Disclaimer: even if Entreri, Jarlaxle and Drizzt attended to my birthday party (I swear!), I do not own them, or any other character of the Forgotten Realms. They are property of RAS and above him Wizards Of The Coast.

SO MANY THANKS to my beta-reader, the great irreplaceable Surreptitious Chi X. I don't know how she did not to kill me. Oh yes, she had lost her whip too...

Without further ado, enjoy.

**Feint Within A Feint**

Prologue

Sitting on the wrought iron balcony, the lovely lady sighed softly.

Under her feet, the city was quietly sleeping and waves of heat filled the air with smoke from its colourful chimneys.

She had been watching them, the dark elves and the human, for more than a decade and had been sincerely saddened by their behaviours. Could not they look over their differences? Was an alliance too hard to be conceived? Probably. Eliminating such prejudices could be considered like a legendary social revolution. Moreover, a certain goddess was interfering too...

They were one another's reflections in a dark mirror – oh yes, so dark and cold - and nobody could understand what was wandering through their minds, nobody could conceive the webs they had created all around them to trap almost every piece of friendship or warm feeling which could cross their paths.

After years of thinking, she had found the unforeseen solution to their problem, but it was not undemanding to place such a scheme into position. Cheating a master of illusion, ensnaring a clever thief, betraying a beloved friend... all these plans were not _that easy_.

She was still hesitating, to be truthful.

Her sisters, wise persons indeed, had told her not to become entangled in devilish ideas like the ones she had currently in mind. Yet, the lady wanted to end these men's sufferings once and for all.

So, she decided she would write their undertaking all by herself.

Its letters would not be that of hatred and lies any more.

She smiled, appreciating the light spring breeze running over her pale skin, moving up her luxurious mane. The foggy clouds were playfully hiding the moon and its procession of stars embellished on the royal blue night.

She lifted her hand. Her eyes glistened brightly.

"Let me tell you a new story, children of the night. A prodigious journey into the heart of foolish dreams, there where magic makes adventure shine... _Litannaleust_!" she added with an childlike laugh.

The spell was cast.


	2. Cross Roads xxx The Copper Ante

First Part  
Cross-roads

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Chapter One : _The Copper Ante_

Opening the tavern's wooden door, Entreri curbed a swearword. He cast a glance over his shoulder, inside the common room filled with heat and alluring cooking smells. Leant on his elbows on the bar, a strange character was happily chatting with a young and pretty blond waitress. Dressed in a rainbow-coloured cloak, he wore an eccentric purple hat adorned with shimmering red and white feathers. He could have appeared as a fashion enthusiast, but his skin, as pitch-black as coal, gave the lie to this simple illusion. Fortunately, Entreri was the only one to see his real appearance. The Drow used one of his rings to look like a surface elf.

Jarlaxle Bregan D'aerthe, sacrificed third son of House Baenre, was a Drow.

"A damn dark elf," Artemis thought bitterly. "Why can't I have a _normal_ one?"

As if he had heard that cynical mockery, the unconventional mercenary turned his head towards the assassin. The Drow smiled wdely. The killer did not linger on the subject ; Jarlaxle's powers were beyond compare, and if the possibility of reading minds existed, the Drow had _already_ owned it. The elf approached him.

"It's raining sheets," Entreri mumbled, now glancing at the grey sobbing sky.

"Sheets?!" The elf opened his eyes broadly, astonished. He pushed the human away and looked outside. "I don't see any sheets..." He seemed _really_ disappointed.

Entreri pinched his nose bridge, exasperated.

"It's an expression, damn Drow! I meant that it's pouring down... We should wait a bit before going out."

"Should we? Oh no, I do love rain. It's one of the first things I've seen on surface; these beautiful golden and silver threads fall from fleecy clouds, like a trail of delicate spider silk."

Without answering, Entreri thought that, first, he did not care one bit about it, and second, that he hated spiders. He used to be unconcerned by them, but since he had seen the horrors of Menzoberranzan... Drow were deviant about these cursed tiny creatures. He ignored Jarlaxle's babbles and made his way through the streets of Calimport.

When he had returned in the southern city, he had _of course_ realised that he was not welcome; whispers in the darkest and lowest strata of society, devilish plots against him, greedy ambitions to kill him to get glory and honour. Entreri _could have feared_ them because of his age: time had not stopped its running out especially for him. However, shade blood had slowed its flow... even reversed it. Instead of forty years old, he seemed to be twenty, and with only one disadvantage. But he did not want to linger on that either.  
Entreri would not fear anyone. If would-be killers wanted to increase their reputations by killing the great Artemis Entreri, they would pay the price. The mortal price. Moreover, Jarlaxle was protecting him. Yet, the assassin did not want to rely on someone as unforeseeable as the Drow. Besides, he did want to rely on _anyone_. He only reckoned on his abilities, on his bloody and undeniable talent.

"Where do we go?" the other mercenary asked innocently.

"Somewhere."

"What for?"

"Something."

"Why?"

"Because." the human replied unaffectedly.

The elf stomped in the middle of the street, out of irritation. Entreri just ignored his reaction, thus Jarlaxle was obliged to overtake him running stupidly.

"Are you trying to be particularly mean with me?"

"Precisely."

Vexed, Jarlaxle sulked. At this moment, he looked like a spoiled child whose parents had not given him his birthday present. Actually, he could have followed his testy-but-stoic companion wherever; having forsaken Bregan D'aerthe in Kimmuriel's artful hands, he did not have any fiendish plan in mind. Sulking was just a kind of game for him; _that_ could grate upon Entreri's nerves, so Jarlaxle was hiding his smirks.  
Yet, this day, the human seemed unexpectedly calm and patient. Even... yes... satisfied! What could have inspired this light mood? And above all, why did Jarlaxle care about it so much?

Jarlaxle was not wrong. Artemis Entreri, nobody else, was serene. The reason was not Calimport, not the proximity of danger, not the shadowy power that ran through and within his very veins and being. No, the reason was that he was going to meet someone he had missed.  
Dwavhel Tiggerwillies, owner of the _Copper Ante_, was absolutely the only one who could have pretended she was Artemis Entreri's friend. But the smart halfling would not do so. Safety first.  
She just listened to him when he needed to talk, sometimes she had offered him her help to resolve burning problems. Most of the time, she would not say anything, but she was able to _listen_. And Entreri appreciated her for that. Since he had fled Calimport with loads of enemies and threats of slow and painful death – and with the dangerous Crenshinibon in his hands, he missed his resourceful smallish friend.

Walking down the streets crowded with colourful courtesans, poverty-stricken beggars and thieves, Entreri hesitated when he arrived in front of the inn.  
Before seeing it, he felt the danger.

_Something bad had happened._

He kicked down the door and rushed inside the building, scrutinizing every hidden recess of the absolutely empty ward. A priori, nothing, except the silence disturbed by the rumours of the street and the imperceptible perfume of bitter beer. A normal and impulsive person would have called out, but the assassin knew that would be a mistake.  
Jarlaxle had followed him, as mute as a shadow. He had discreetly drew a short dagger, as the killer had removed Charon's Claw form its scabbard. Whoever the foe was, he was going to have a hard time.  
Both explored the place, at bay, but did not find anything. That was _precisely_ the problem. A tavern, not even in the outskirts of Calimport, was not a _deserted_ place. There must have been customers, gamblers or prostitutes... something!

"Hey, Arty, there's a note there," Jarlaxle pointed out.

Stressed, the human unconsciously set the ludicrous nickname aside. He caught up with the elf and quickly read the elegant letters.  
He hardly swallowed.

His companion saw him turned dangerously pale, and on so grey a skin as his, it was not unnoticeable. Quick-minded, the Drow had no problem understanding what was taking place. The manageress had been kidnapped, killed, or maybe worse. He had seen well that the message was intended for Entreri, but had had no time to read the signature.  
A vein beat curiously in the killer's temple.

"Must be _worse_," the elf realised silently. "What's new?" he asked aloud then.

Artemis cast him a venomous, dangerous glance, full of promises of death, but especially, infinitely distrusting. "What twisted idea has crossed your mind?"

"My mind? At the moment my lunch... and a very good idea for dessert... only pragmatic and rather unsavoury thoughts."

If eyes had been able to kill, Jarlaxle would have fallen stiff dead. Instantly.

"Answer."

"I did! I don't know what in the Nine Hells you're talking about..."

Actually, Artemis put aside all his distrust to pursue his inquiry. Indeed, he did not see what could have been the interest of the elf in this affair. All the same, one was never too careful. He nervously stretched out the small parchment.  
One second. Two. Three. Too much.

"Explain," he ordered, too calm.

Jarlaxle's eyes opened wide. When he saw the signature, he knew that these innocent letters were going to sign his damnation.

_If you want to see your little Dwavhel again, and alive, the road to the North awaits you. The gates of Mithral Hall will open for you.  
You have three days. At dusk, for the new moon, she'll die._

_ Drizzt Do'Urden_

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Reviews appreciated ! 'smiles'_  
_


	3. Illusions of Hate

**Thank for the reviews, and I won't tell you anything Sushi-san85, because of 1) It would be a spoiler, 2) why would Alustriel do that? I'm still deeply thankful with what you've done, Surreptitious Chi X, you're just great! Good reading!**

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Chapter Two : _Illusions Of Hate  
_

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"He _should be _DEAD!" Artemis exploded.

"I'm sure he _is_!"

"And a priest full of humour has decided, by generosity towards the realms' population, he would resurrect him? I can't stand your damn twisted jokes, damn elf! I still don't know why I don't kill you or tear you apart..."

His grey eyes shone really, really dangerously.  
Jarlaxle knew he had to devise a credible subterfuge. A lie. Something.

"What if this person was not Drizzt? I don't know, he may be an enemy of yours – you have so many – who wants to torment you... Let me add that Drizzt doesn't know Dwavhel."

Proud of his ingenuity, Jarlaxle breathed easier. Absolutely conceivable and amazing. What a genius he was!

"Drizzt _doesn't_ know Dwavhel?" Entreri asked softly.

"Exactly." the elf replied before understanding his terrible mistake.

Stupid language.

As he saw the Great Spark Of Death in Artemis's eyes, he expressed in his heart of hearts a prayer to whatever would like to answer. The Drow must have had one or two rings to teleport him far, far away from the assassin. What remained was the "which ring" question. Why did he have to wear so many ? Not the blue one, not the red...  
Yet, contrary to what could have been expected, Artemis Entreri did not burn Jarlaxle to ashes. Nor did he reduce him to a dark bloody pulp. Instead, he sat on a dusty stool and closed his eyes, as if he felt sick.  
In his thoughts, he realised which lies he had been gliding in for several years. His great foe, Drizzt Do'Urden, his very Nemesis, was not dead, most probably thanks to Jarlaxle and Kimmuriel. So what now? Was he going to pursue him again and again? This question was not the most important of all: to tell the truth, he had been _betrayed_ by Jarlaxle. Of course, it should not have disturbed him so much. This reality made him realise something else: he had begun to consider the Drow as a companion, or even more... A friend? No, not really. But still...  
Their arrangement of "mutual benefit" was not convenient for him any more, apparently. He had waited more of the dark elf. Why had he believed in it then? What madness... Nevertheless, Life had been clear on the subject: rely on nobody, entrust your life to nobody, do not hope and you will not be disappointed. However...It did not matter.

Looking embarrassed, yes, _embarrassed_, Jarlaxle knelt down before Artemis, searching his eyes. He did not want things this way. Unconsciously, he had hurt his friend. Violently. What could he do ?

"Artemis," he began, hesitating. "Kidnapping does not seem like Drizzt. I'm sure it's someone else's fault. We should ask around if somebody has witnessed something unusual. We shall try."

His voice was imploring. Look at me, Artemis, tell me I'm not the monster I believe I am. The assassin finally lifted his head; his glance was frozen and empty.

"We?"

"It's nothing at all. I've deceived you. I would like to make up for my lies."

"Since when do you care?"

"Since you're my friend."

"Lies."

Jarlaxle sighed. Gaining Artemis's trust back would be a hard task. The Drow did not realise yet how much it would take.

"As you like it. So, let's see what we can do, and let's go to Mithral Hall!"

Artemis closed his eyes again. Leaving Calimport to find Dwavhel's abductor – probably a supposed dead Drow ranger – with an unreliable traitor. What a good idea indeed! He sighed. He needed Jarlaxle's help right then, so he would put his retaliation aside for a while. All things come to he that waits. Now, finding Dwavhel was his priority. And Drizzt would die too. Just to be sure.

They left Calimport and its suburbs. The mercenaries used their magic and demonic chargers to begin the journey which would lead them immediately northward, and to the Hall. Time did not play in their favour, but both hoped sincerely that they would not be too late when they arrived.  
Entreri did not want his friend to be punished because of him, because of an excess of pride. He should have made sure that the son of the Do'Urdens had died well and truly. He should never have relied on the damned Jarlaxle. He should have...  
As for Jarlaxle, he was pretty worried, not only because his human companion would be as mistrustful as never. What a pity. Moreover, it was strange that Drizzt, Zaknafein's son after all, could stoop to harassing his Nemesis. That was definitively not like him.

_On top of that, he managed to destroy all my work!_ Jarlaxle thought bitterly. "_Artemis was doing better, I've even seen him genuinely _smile_ sometimes! With another year, I'm sure he would have found his way in life, and he would have had projects about his future... What a bad muse I am... Lloth would be saying "Hey, Jarl', stop dreaming, he's lost for you". I'm insane._

His stream of consciousness lasted for a long time. Since Artemis had walled up himself in an icy silence, Jarlaxle did not try to make him talk. It would be pretty useless: he would shower abuse on him.  
The day after, near Baldur's Gate, the duo had to stop for their horses. They vanished in a curl of smoke.  
Silence remained.

They went past Waterdeep on the West, then headed for the Evemoors and Nesmé, by the Subrin River's side. The sun kept on making its own way through the grey sky of autumn. Nevertheless, it did not matter that it was fall in Calimshan, because in the Silver Marches, seasons did not have the same meanings. Fall was a hope soon deceived for life and heat. In a flash, winter would stretch out its frozen creaky fingers over the Spine of the World.  
Jarlaxle moved the fire ashes whereas Artemis was tidying up the encampment. They had not exchanged a word since they had left Calimport. Yet, the Drow had to talk. Now.

"Artemis. You know we have a problem." he whispered.

"_My_ problem is you."

The tone was as cutting as steel.

"Stop making me your scapegoat and open your eyes! We won't be in time! We've overestimated our figurines' powers. We need two more days – if not three – to reach Mithral Hall and to gain entry into the underground. Unless you hid me a magician in your shoulder bag, of course."

"I know." His voice had softened. "We've made the mistake leaving Calimport or even Baldur's Gate without hiring a wizard."

Jarlaxle opened wide eyes. Was Artemis Entreri admitting his stupid loss of sense of reality ? Impossible.

"However," he went on, "I'm convinced he won't kill Dwavhel until I'm with her. That would be a foolish suicidal decision. Drizzt, if it's him, is not a foolish nor a suicidal elf. Although..."

"So what do you propose?" Jarlaxle asked with curiosity and surprise. He did not expect such a wise reflection from the testy human.

"We take our time. We prepare the battle. We win."

"Good program indeed."

So they decided to stay not far from the river for that day, to find their strengths exhausted by the crazy race which had led them to there. Entreri was not ignorant: he knew pertinently that with this speed, his chances to overcome Drizzt Do' Urden again would have decreased in half. In the Crystal Tower, he had been at the top of his art. As said previously, time had not played in his favour, in spite of the small bonus brought by the Shade. The Drow was in the prime of life...  
Fighting imaginary creatures, he swirled gracefully, severing invisible flesh with sword and dagger. Progressively, he regained his facilities, his reflexes and the pleasure he had always had in battle. After all, he had been the most feared assassin of Calimshan, he had stayed in the dangerous Menzoberranzan, he had killed a Shade and sucked out its life-force, he was travelling with Jarlaxle D'aerthe in person... Self-confidence was not pride but power.

Jarlaxle went away from the camp in order to reorganize his thoughts and schemes. He did not like the situation, really he did not. Something was out of place. Not only Artemis should have killed him long time ago, but especially he should not be stubbornly insisting with such objectives. Drizzt _was_ out of place.  
Who could do such a pitiful empty threat? Killing an halfling... Where was the interest? Where was the benefit? Where was the gain?  
His pacing up had led him by the river's bank, and he watched his reflection into running water without paying attention at it. He took off his hat and played absent-mindedly with the feathers. His thoughts got in a muddle, and he sat, suddenly out of breath. He was lost. For all his life he had thought in terms of profit and wealth. Now, he was tangled up in his own webs, fearing what would come : real companionship, or even more. Why did he care so much about Artemis Entreri ? He was just a human among the others ; ephemeral and weak... Yet so bright and strong... As a candle flame. Was Jarlaxle going to be the one who would greedily blow out his life?

Suddenly, the dark elf heard noise from the other side of the Subrin River.  
Lifting his head, he held his breath.

What in the Nine Hells was Drizzt Do'Urden doing here?

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Thank you for reading ! 'looks toward the _Review Button_ with an innocent smile'. 


	4. Under The Panther's Eyes

**Before reading, here are my answers to the nice reviews you left me!**  
_**Sushi-san85:**_** It is sometimes so hard to put a description of the Forgotten Realms somewhere without it becoming something really boring and uninteresting. Fortunately, Wizards Of The Coast have edited some great and beautiful maps of Faerun on the Internet...  
_Lessiehanamoray_: I hope you'll enjoy this!**  
_**Linndechir**_**: Yeah, the confusing prologue was indeed my intention. I have placed more ****dialogues on this chapter, and I hope you'll be pleased with them.**

**  
Now, SPECIAL CHEERS to my perfect Beta-Reader, Surreptitious Chi X, Great Guide on the Great Journey to the English Fan Fictions! You must read her amazing works!**

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Chapter Three : Under the Panther's Eyes

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A scene so strange would have upset many spectators. The place had nothing particular: a river of clear, melodious and twinkling water, flat and white rocks which warmed themselves in the autumn sun, and a lovely girl singing while she was doing the laundry.  
She was a girl like any other: she was a human living in dwarf fortress. She was not just anyone, because she was Catti-brie, King Battlehammer's daughter. 

Daydreaming, she thought of her dear and dark friend, Drizzt Do' Urden. He had left for some days to travel in the region of Mithral Hall, mysterious as ever. He required solitude, to gather his thoughts, to put a little of order between his sharp ears, so he pretended. Something had been largely disturbing him for some time. Maybe she would know what some day.  
Bruenor, Wulfgar and Regis were also absent, gone for diplomatic mission in Luskan. Dwarves were still in the Halls and the mines, of course, but none of them would talk to her during the day...  
Fortunately, Catti-brie was not _all alone_: Guenwhyvar was watching over her. The panther was now quietly snoring near the door, yet, she was watching too. Her master has told her to be Catti-brie's bodyguard. She would obey.

Catti-brie appreciated peace and serenity. But, after several days of idleness, she could not refrain from feeling nostalgia of the adrenalin poured in her veins by danger, she could not forget the call of the unknown, the immense expanses of the Sea of Swords... In brief, adventure. Domestic life was certainly not made for her.  
Unbearable, to be truthful. On a whim, the young lady decided to leave. To Silverymoon, why not, but somewhere. After all, Kazid'hea beat by her side, she did not risk anything and knew how to fight. She had begun in slaying yetis as soon as she had known how to hold a rapier. Three days of journey, and city gates would open for her. The very idea!

She abandoned her uninteresting laundry and began leaving the room.  
Strong arms prevented her from doing such a move. She struggled, screaming as loud as she could, but the Dwarves would not hear her. She wriggled to recognize her assailant but he was masked. Catti-brie smelled a rich perfume of chloroform – even if she did not know what it was – and fainted instantly. The last thing she thought was that she had not been able to defend herself. And that Guenwhyvar had not reacted.

* * *

Jarlaxle stood up. Slowly. The second dark elf had not seen him yet. As soon as the day would weaken a little more, he would use infravision, but Bregan D'aerthe's former leader would stay normally outside sight, thanks to his numerous magical devices. Remaining conscientiously hidden in undergrowth, Jarlaxle thought, not without a certain satisfaction, that he had been right. Drizzt being here was just a coincidence, nothing else. He was putting up his tent and his encampment, and a delicious smell of cooked meat floated in the air. A walk. Drizzt Do'Urden was just having a walk in the forest. And no halfling in sight. 

So Jarlaxle took important decisions. Firstly, Artemis should not be aware that his enemy was in the area. Secondly, Jarlaxle had to talk to the enemy in question and advise him that he should run off hurriedly. Thirdly, far, far away.

He left the bushes, crossed the river on a ruined wooden bridge next to him and moved toward the Drow. Drizzt did not need a lot of time to locate the newcomer, but he needed one or two second to get his second wind. Faster than the eye could see, his scimitars shone brightly in his hands. He was not hostile, but he clearly gave the following message: "Don't even try to attack!".

Jarlaxle crossed his arms on his chest, sign for peace in the Underdark... or for what could have been peace at least. He bowed his head, with one of his disarming smile whose meaning hesitated between murder and friendship. Destabilizing.

"Why are you here?" Drizzt asked not without deep distrust.

"Tourism. The Evermoors are beautiful in this season."

Silence.

"Can't you be serious once in your long life?"

Exasperated, Drizzt sheathed his twin blades, understanding that this fellow did not exactly want to slay him or transform him into a fur-lined cloak. Leaving him with the same question: why was he there?

"Life's always too serious for me, little drowling. Actually, we're hunting a kidnapper."

"We?" Drizzt reacted.

"Our dear Entreri is here."

"Oh."

New heavy silence.

"You should leave before he finds you."

The mercenary cast a glance over his shoulder, as if he wanted to emphasize his declaration. Yet, contrary to what Jarlaxle had been waiting for, Zaknafein's son did not turn back. He had just lifted an eyebrow and looked suspicious.

"Why should I fear a trite half-human? A mere shadow if what I heard from Lady Alustriel is true..."

Before answering that question, the blazing Drow thought that he did not have much luck. He now had to tell the truth in order to make the young elf disappear.

"Because the _Shade_ in question believes you're the naughty kidnapper and wants to hang you by the bowels and to make you eat Twinkle from pommel to point with spiced sauce on it. The imminence of this gastronomic event's approaching as I'm discoursing on it."

Drizzt shook his head.

"I won't go 'til I know all the story." he decreed.

Jarlaxle swore and drew a dagger which could become a thin sword.

"Don't make me _hurt_ you..." he muttered darkly, but he did not manage to hide his smirk.

Arms crossed over his chest, Drizzt laughed frankly. Jarlaxle was not really convincing.

"That was pathetic."

The older Drow let out an exasperated sigh. "I _know_," he waved his hand, "here, let me try again."

The ranger shrugged. Jarlaxle tipped his hat and bowed gracefully.

"Don't make me hur... Oh please, not today. I'm tired: I can't do anything evil with effectiveness. I'm almost serious, Drizzt. Artemis is going to..."

A noise in the bushes. Lavender and crimson glances headed for the sound. They met grey eyes as cold as a blade. Pretty angry on top of that.

"I'm going to...?"

Jarlaxle smiled nervously, he was in a real fix. Then, he realised his companion was really waiting for a reply.

"Kill me...?" he tried.

"You can do better," the assassin assured.

"Hang him by the bowels and make him eat his hat from feather to brim with spiced sauce on it?" Drizzt proposed innocently.

The killer appreciated the proposition. Jarlaxle was astonished: since when did not Artemis wring Drizzt's neck as soon as he saw him? And why his hat? Then, he understood. The human had heard all their conversation, and he had interpreted it cleverly. His Nemesis was not Dwavhel's kidnapper. However, Jarlaxle had betrayed him again, lying about the dark elf's presence. That was why he was furious.  
As for the hat... The color must not have pleased Zaknafein's son's sensitive eyes. Yet, purple indeed went with everything, no?

"So what do we do?" Jarlaxle asked.

To be truthful, the situation was not that simple.  
Entreri frowned. He caressed thoughtfully his chin and his beard. He planted his eyes into Drizzt's.

"The ranger will come with us until Mithral Hall, just to be sure. There, if he's clean-handed, we leave him, and we look for Dwavhel somewhere else."

"And if I don't want to?" Drizzt questioned.

Charon's Claw abandoned his sheath, as did the jeweled vampire-dagger. A dark predatory smile appeared on the killer's thin lips.

"Oh you will."

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Leave some reviews please! Thank you for reading anyway! 


	5. Allies

**Hello everybody! Here we are for the fourth chapter of Feint Within A Feint, and here I answer your reviews, and thank you to all the fantastic reviewers and readers.**

**_Surreptitious Chi X :_ A cheeky and devilish Drizzt is something I dream of every night... Jarlaxle's hat was just a bad excuse to allow him to mock. I loved writing these lines, 'smiles'.**

**_Linndechir_ : Catti-brie is also a problem for me, but I do like her sometimes. Sometimes. I'm waiting for The Two Swords's traduction in French to finally read the moment Drizzt sleeps with her... For how many books have we been waiting for that? Salvatore (praise him) is just sooo lumbering and clumsy on this subject. But I digress...**

**_Iceheart Firesoul_ : I do enjoy leaving my readers on suspenseful moments. Yeah, I'm cruel. You love that. Thank you for your nice review, and you'll have to be patient about the Mysterious Lady Of The Prologue...**

**_Lessiehanamoray_ : The Shade side of Entreri is something really interesting to my mind. Salvatore just does not explore it enough... But maybe he does in the short stories I have not read, I don't really know. Still, it's an aspect I have not find often in fanfictions. I thought it could be really interesting. Munchkin, but interesting.  
**

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Chapter Four : _Allies  
_

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Cohabitation between the dark elves and the human posed several problems.  
Not only Drizzt was not cooperative, but especially Entreri could not repress the murderous drives he felt towards the Drow. As a matter of fact, Jarlaxle tried to relieve the atmosphere a little. Never had he felt so much ignored; Drizzt had never really relied on him, and Artemis would never do it again. Charming. 

Jarlaxle had advised his fellow that he should not flee, and the latter had conscientiously heard and understood; if he would do so, he would admit he was guilty, and Entreri would pursue him to the end of the world. Showing a bit of patience and humility could be the problem's solution. However, the ranger did not like obeying the murderer, it went against all his ideals and principles. He preferred to comply the mercenaries' orders than to risk new years of hunting and endless fights. Jarlaxle was secretly delighted at the young elf's wisdom. At least, one of the trio stayed calm and was not going off his head.

Artemis, however, was a bit more complicated. Drizzt was like a ghost for him. Every second spent with this specter seemed to weigh disastrously on his shoulders. Would he return on his decisions? Would he like to start again the fight where it had been interrupted? Above all, Jarlaxle was attentive to his friend's well-being. Of course, these ceaseless interrogations were not safe as far as Jarlaxle was concerned. They forced him into wondering why he did care about his partner. Reflections he really did not want to linger on. Yet, he knew he had to resolve them.  
Maybe it was just not the right moment... Well, yes it was, but the mercenary liked making up loads of rubbish excuses.

_That's not that important,_ he decided._ I am going to manipulate him until I have the answers I want. He will confide in me, like it or not._

The day after, they left, walking along Subrin River. According to the ranger, they would rejoin Mithral Hall within two days. Forty-eight hours of tolerance. They could make it.  
At night, Entreri went hunting while the elves prepared the camp. They never exchanged more words than necessary. The atmosphere was burdensome and heavy. The assassin came back with two partridges he had slaughtered. They ate the roasted poultry in silence, Drizzt and Entreri glancing at each other with mistrust and sometimes with disdain. Jarlaxle could not stand that any more; he _had to_ do something, regardless of what.  
So he sang.  
Artemis cast a murderous glance towards him.

"Are you trying to commit suicide painfully?"

That vexed Jarlaxle. He had a rather beautiful voice, but in a way, he was pleased his little tune had succeeded in distracting the killer's attention from Drizzt.

"I'm not. I was thinking of an excellent idea. Why don't we create our own troubadour band? You could play the flute, and Drizzt... well... I'm sure he could be an excellent dancer!"

The young Drow choked. "Are you insane or something?"

"Yes, I am," the mercenary replied. "But I don't suffer from insanity, I enjoy every minute of it."

However, while Artemis was now superbly ignoring them – doubtless convinced that Jarlaxle's brain had mysteriously wilted a long time ago – Zaknafein's son captured a smile of complicity on his fellow's lips, and straight after, slight movements of the sign language.

_It's up to you now, play my game._

_I don't know your rules... Tell them to me,_ the ranger replied, destabilized by a code he had not practiced for more than a decade. Yet, he knew that the resourceful mercenary would never undo his complex schemes for love of him.

_No, little drowling, I can't... yet. Your role is part of an immense web I'm weaving around my dear friend. I'm the spider in charge of this web, you're just a thread. Please do as I say, and just know I want him to _react

Jarlaxle just winked.  
But Artemis Entreri was no fool. In spite of his false indifference, he had seen the exchange between the elves, but did not understand it. Literally growling, the assassin stood up and left in the forest. Again treachery, again betrayal, again lies. The only reason he stayed with these doomed and cruel creatures was Dwavhel; he did not have the right to abandon her.  
Sure that the human was away, Jarlaxle sighed loudly. He crossed his muscular arms behind his neck, hiding his face under his hat, and pouted. He had expected this reaction, and had not built his plan over it. In his own and precious chaotic world, he had to admit he liked foreseeable people. Unfortunately, Artemis Entreri was not always one of them... but that made the game funnier.  
Silence had settled over the encampment. Then, Zaknafein's son made a grave decision: he broke it.

"You're what is nearest a _friend_ for him, Jarlaxle. Don't forget or spoil that. If you want to help him, you're not using the right solution. He does not believe you any more."

"Did he?"

His voice was bitterer than Jarlaxle had wished.

"Almost. He has not stabbed you yet, although you hid my survival. If you want to gain his trust back, I'll be happy to help you. Nothing else."

Jarlaxle opened wide eyes. Had he heard what he believed he had? Indeed, the Drow was right; the approach he used was not the good one. But...

"Why?" he questioned.

Drizzt shrugged.

"First, you saved my life and Catti-Brie's several times. I owe something to you. Second, you were my father's friend, I imagine we can be more than... well... simple acquaintances. Third, I guess that when I went through my own darkness – Mielikki knows how many times - I had a friend who helped me overcoming my breakdown and who knew how to. I think you're the only one Entreri can rely on, and if I can bring my experience, I would be glad he acquires his serenity."

Once again, Jarlaxle was more moved that he would admit. In a corner of his mind, he was indeed pleased his old strategy had functioned well; when people are indebted to you, they can help you later. As a matter of fact, he did not understand all what his wise fellow had said, but something in him responded to that promise. He wanted to help Artemis, yes, he wanted to try. Only manipulating him did not seem _right_, and now he began understanding what was motivating his decisions, something which looked like real friendship. Still...

"If you had forgotten, he is _just_ your archenemy." he said in a casual way.

"True. But someone told me that the enemy of today is the I of yesterday, and the friend of tomorrow."

However, even Drizzt was not convinced of that.

* * *

The morning after, Entreri returned to the encampment with wide shadows under his eyes. He must had stayed awake all night, and so, he was even more short-tempered than ever.

"Good morning!" Jarlaxle greeted him happily.

"Don't give me more reasons to hurt you."

With that, Artemis began packing up his things after he had watering the fire camp ashes. The Drow swore under his breath and caught up with the other elf.

"What would you like me to do with this _damn_ angry human?" he asked in Drow, himself pretty irritated.

"Apologize."

"Apolo-what? Have you forgotten who you're speaking with, little thing?"

"He thinks you've betrayed him. Twice or more. And do not believe I'm by his side, I'm just advising you, remember? So, you should apologize for having betrayed his trust. And do that shortly, he does not appreciate your incessant gibberish."

"My _what_?"

"You've heard well."

Jarlaxle swore again, his hands on his hips, watching Artemis finishing his packing up.

"You know," he said then to Drizzt. "You really look and sound like your father sometimes."

Drizzt simply smiled. "To my view, it's indeed a compliment."

"To everybody else's view, it's indeed an insult. Be careful, Twinkle with spiced sauce is still a good idea."

Yet, in spite of his numerous claims, Jarlaxle knew Drizzt was right, and he was glad he had such an ally by his side. Maybe he would manage to regain Entreri's trust. Sighing, he took his horse figurine, as Artemis was doing the same.

"Blackfire." they said in unison.

The nightmarish creatures appeared in a smoky and burning fog. Drizzt hardly got his breath back: he had not seen the infernal mounts yet. With them, Mithral Hall would be in sight at night.

* * *

**Thank you for reading, and do not forget the review button! I even accept flames...**


	6. Riddles

**New chapter! Beta-read by the coughmarvellouscough Surreptitious Chi X! Little answers to your so nice reviews, and you'll be able to enjoy the fifth chapter of Feint Within A Feint. No warning I think... I tried to have a very little funny dialogue between Jarlaxle and Drizzt, as everybody seemed to have liked it. Tell me what you think about it.**

**_Lessiehanamoray_ : This chapter is for you... Now Mithral Hall! But not for long.**

**_Linndechir_ : Actually, I realise the last chapter was a bit less interesting and funny. My schedule is guilty, I was really in a hurry with my different fictions. Your review was very kind 'blushes'. I have in mind more dialogues between Jarlaxle and Drizzt, because, indeed, their relationship can be really deep and important. I am very glad the characters stay on track about personnality.**

**_Iceheart Firesoul_ : I loooove when Drizzt is cheeky. Glad too that Jarlaxle-Drizzt dialogue pleased you. I had excellent retorts in French, and translating them was one of my greatest fears, because I was afraid of them losing quality. Thank you very much. **

**_Ariel-D_ : Oh. My. God. A review from Ariel-D. My heart stopped beating. I love your works, and seeing you seem to appreciate mine is a real honour! Hope you will like the next chapters! And yes, I do agree, Jarlaxle needs good smacks in the head... often.  
**

* * *

Chapter Five : _Riddles_

* * *

Indeed, when night came over the Silver Marches, the trio was on Mithral Hall's doorstep. However, entering with an unknown Drow and a man the Dwarves knew as a mighty assassin was not that easy. Drizzt did not want to create trouble in Bruenor's kingdom. He asked his companions to stay in a small grove near the principal gates and went in the tunnels. The mercenaries understood the young elf had no reason to denounce them now to the Dwarves in order to arrest them, so they let him go.

To begin, Drizzt had to find Catti-brie, or at least a Dwarf he knew well. He was aware that his other friends were far away, near Luskan if he remembered correctly. Oh yes, 'diplomatic business', or something like that. Whatever.

The ranger walked along the great halls of Bruenor's ancestors, without watching the famous and mighty masterpieces of forging on the pedestals, trying not to anticipate Catti-brie's reactions. She would be upset he had travelled with Jarlaxle on the one hand, but on top of that, with Artemis Entreri on the other hand. The young woman had never really recovered from her painful first encounter with the dangerous killer. He had mauled her, and even struck her, humiliating and scaring her. Even if the assassin had saved Drizzt and her from the merciless Underdark, Catti-brie loathed Entreri, and she had many reasons for that.  
Drizzt sighed. He had a lot of explanations to do in retrospect.

"Cat'! Where are you?" he called.

Only a cold silence answered his plea.

_She must be downstairs_, he thought. The Drow went down and called his red-haired friend again and again. Of course, he should not have been ill-at-ease, but something in him, the Hunter perhaps, was screaming at him to speed up his pace. He felt it to the bone. This time, he did not shout. He ran.  
Smashing down the wooden door of the woman's room, he found it empty. Her things were still there: clothes, weapons and even her undergarments... He shook his head; she was obviously not there, and she would have been pretty mad at him if he had destroyed her door while she was just behind.  
Then, he noticed a piece of parchment on her oaken bedside table. That was not her jerky writing. And it was written in Drow. A chill went up his spine.

"Praise Mielikki, what happened..." he whispered, his heart heavy.

_Here you are my dear assassin. You're late. I thought of something funnier, to liven up our little games together, or for you to reconsider the seriousness of our little business. Catti-brie is with me now. She will love to play too. Such beautiful tears...  
I will kill them both, unless the dark elven waste and you find me within a fortnight._

_Black and purple-eyed I am,  
The renegade should know;  
Under brilliant waters._

_M._

Drizzt needed time to get his second wind. What was this complete farce? He creased the parchment and clenched his teeth. He had to save Catti-brie.  
Quickly.

* * *

"Is he a Drow Siren?" Jarlaxle asked politely.

Drizzt and Artemis cast him murderous glances.  
The ranger, not knowing what to do, had returned with the sellswords. After all, the note did not concern him only. Maybe he could trust them... just the necessary.

"I'm trying to understand!" the mercenary protested. "'Under brilliant waters', that should mean something! If you keep on scowling, the journey is indeed going to be _difficult_."

Drizzt sighed. The next two weeks, he would have to stay with these rogues, hoping they would find the solution to this abject riddle. None of them knew a serious enemy whose name began with an 'm' (or too many in Jarlaxle's case to find out), and Drizzt was the only one purple-eyed person in their memories.

"The 'who' is not that important," Entreri pointed out. "Have you a map or something?"

Drizzt nodded. He took a yellow-turned roll out of his leather belt and unrolled it on the dusty ground at his feet. The lines represented an elaborated map of Faerun from the Spine of the World on the Western North to the Forest of Amtar on the Eastern South. He tapped Mithral Hall. They were there. He gasped when he understood: the solution was quite obvious. His slender fingers ran across the map to a blue stretch near the Calim Desert.

"The _Shining_ Sea," he revealed.

Artemis cursed. All this way to the North for almost nothing! In spite of his frustration, and of his worries, he agreed. "Good, but there are _a lot of_ lands 'under' the Shining Sea. Where do we begin?" His voice was enough ironic for Drizzt to massage his temples out of despair. The Drow had not the foggiest idea...

Jarlaxle bit his lower lip. "In fact, the 'who' is rather important." he corrected then. "Since the three of us are renegades in our way, I guess we must understand the first lines to precise the third. Any idea?" As nobody spoke, Bregan D'aerthe's former leader shrugged. "I propose we leave for Calimport, and we'll have to find the solution on the road. Do you accompany us, Drizzt?"

"He does." Entreri ordered under his breath.

The young elf did not say anything to protest.

They rode without interruption, except when the magical energy of the figurines was drained. When it happened, around twice a day, the dark elves and the human rested, exchanging a few words. After a week of ride, Jarlaxle suggested them stopping their race. He could not measure the horses' power, and feared they would not reappear again. His two companions nodded; as for as they were concerned, keeping on riding would sign their death. Moreover, they had to eat something more substantial than stale bread.  
Furthermore, Jarlaxle had convinced them to slow down the pace. After all, they could hire a wizard's favours once in Waterdeep. He would send them to Calimport in a flash - in return for his life, had added Entreri with an icy tone and a cruel smile.  
Thus, the three men settled their bivouac for the night, cooking the hares they had shot two hours before. Entreri declared he would stand guard and disappeared into the copse. Drizzt cast a glance toward his senior and coded with his slender hands:

_That's the moment. You should talk to him._

Jarlaxle made a face.

_Why should I go? He won't listen. He had dedicated me to the Nine Hells..._

_You deserved it_, Drizzt declared flatly.

_Naughty__ little drowling._

_Go. What are you waiting for?_

_Your striptease? _Jarlaxle's fingers swinging in the air expressed amusement.

_Naughty little pervert._

Suppressing laughter, the mercenary left for the grove of oaks, scanning the area to find Artemis. He did not really know what to say, and how he should say that ignorance. Drizzt had advised him to be brief. That had the advantage not to let him linger on the matters of the heart. No discussion, no questions, no self-introspection. Only profit. Or almost. As said before, Bregan D'aerthe's former leader was not a man – or a Drow, whatever – accustomed to apologizing. This act meant he had made a mistake, meant he had been wrong. An intolerable idea for someone such as Jarlaxle. His line of thoughts and schemes did not allow him to make mistakes. They could be fatal whenever and wherever, and Entreri's presence did not lighten the problem.  
Suddenly, at the dark elf's feet, the tracks disappeared. Artemis had vanished into thin air. Lifting his head, the sellsword peered into the foliages to no avail. Infravision did not resolve the mystery: the only sources of heat were birds or foxes. Where in the Nine Hells was this bloody assassin? How did he manage to shake off a Drow?

Artemis Entreri felt cold, and warm at the same time, as if his body was freezing whereas his heart was melting. Mighty Jarlaxle was not able to see him. Curious. The shadows around him seemed to gather closer to his silhouette, and he felt acceptance and power. Quick-minded, he understood fast. The _Shade_'s blood running through his veins endowed him with obscure gifts. Thus, he had been able to escape Jarlaxle's investigations. Yet, this power frightened him: yes, it was a gift, but what about the inconveniences? What if the _Shade_ in him was still alive, drinking his soul as he was using its skills?  
Shaking his head, he abandoned his cloak of shadows and sat near the brook's bank, on a tree trunk struck by lightning. Now was not the moment to think of his little senseless problems. Dwavhel had troubles with an unknown and dangerous enemy, just because she was Entreri's friend. And because of that, the killer was discovering something he had not missed until that: guiltiness, culpability. He was afraid. If something bad happened to the lovely halfling, he would never forgive himself.  
His thoughts wandered aimlessly until he realised he was nervously touching Idalia's flute, a wooden instrument he had unconsciously taken from his shoulder bag. The thin ribs on the masterpiece drew admirable arabesques, bringing out the ochre colour of the wood. The touch under his fingers was as soft as silk. It had been a while since he had not played, knowing the disastrous effects it had on him. However, he acknowledged the flute could bring him calming and peace of mind. In such a situation, such a comfort could not be denied.  
The assassin brought Idalia's flute to his lips, and a soft tune rose in the air. He believed his heart was now melting into the music, flying over the trees, zigzagging between the branches, surfing on the leaves and exploding into the sky. He forgot everything, giving up to the enchantment.  
Then, he perceived a voice in the chaos of music and vibrations. Opening his eyes, he had a shock of recognition. Do'Urden. Why was he there?  
As if he had heard the unspoken question, Drizzt approached.

"I followed the sound. That was pretty beautiful." He paused. "You _do_ play the flute, so."

Standing up, Entreri growled. He was going to return back to the encampment, but the young elf held him up.

"You care for her. Dwavhel. Don't deny, I feel the same for Catti-brie. I just wanted to say that... I understood. Don't be worried sick, we'll find this man and we'll... well, you know..."

"Hang him by the bowels and..."

"Make him eat Jarlaxle's awful hat," the Drow achieved. "And Jarlaxle too."

Drizzt did not understand why he was so happy and relieved to see Entreri genuinely smile. That just comforted him and he felt... yes, some kind of camaraderie. And he was also surprised the killer did not dedicate him to the Nine Hells as he had done with the other dark elf. Maybe they could get along. Maybe they could have civilized interactions without skinning each other alive.

"As we're talking nonsense, since when do you play the flute?"

"That's a gift from our former employers, Ilnezhara and Tazmikella. Dragon sisters."

Drizzt blinked. He opened his mouth but no word crossed his lips. Then, stunned, he hugged abruptly the assassin. "I have it!" he exclaimed finally

Freeing brusquely himself from the Drow, Entreri frowned.

"The way to commit suicide? Yes, you have it..."

"No! The man who signed the parchment. He's not human, he's a _dragon_! A purple-eyed black dragon!"

* * *

** I'm waiting for your reviews! Thank you for reading!**


	7. To the Jungles Of Chult!

**And... A new chapter! Answers to reviews and then, you will be able to read. Relax, and enjoy!**

**_Iceheart Firesoul :_ And yeah, you have found the name - almost! - of the dragon, congratulations! It has been a bit hard to find it again in "Sojourn", but I'm brave, and I've found it! Maybe a little problem in the spelling, cause my books are in French: names are changed... You'll tell me.  
And don't worry, Drizzt and Artemis's relationship is going to increase. Well, more or less in this chapter, I hope you'll like this turn of event.  
You're right about Catti-brie's view about Entreri. I don't really think she hates her, but I tried to see the situation from Drizzt's point of view.  
Hurray for the cheeky Drizzt!**

**_Linndechir :_ How I wish I could see Drizzt stripteasing... Oh and I know Idalia's flute is dangerous, but it brings so much possibilities with Artemis's feelings. Not that I want to change them, not at all. I don't think that Idalia's flute gives life to new feelings, I prefer to think that it can just increase feelings already existing.  
Personnally, I love Jarlaxle's hat.**

**_Surreptitious Chi X _: Thank you so much, again and again! I'm still blushing...**

* * *

Chapter Six : _To the Jungles of Chult !_

* * *

"A dragon?" Jarlaxle asked, sceptically. 

"Mergandevinasander of Chult. Don't ask me to spell it."

The young dark elf had briefly recounted the trick he had used against a red dragon, almost two decades before, pretending he was himself a dragon in a Drow's shell.

"Chult is in the South of the Shining Sea," Artemis noticed, looking on the map. "That makes sense."

Bregan D'aerthe's former leader pouted, sitting on a flat stone while night was covering the land. Twilight glow seemed to dress him with thin and graceful clothes of subdued heat, contrasting with his pitch black skin. For a moment, glancing at this fragile silhouette glimmering in the dusk, Artemis realised that the Drow was truly beautiful. He slapped himself mentally. What in the Nine Hells was he thinking about! Surely an undesired effect of Idalia's flute, but he did not consider that possibility. Drizzt captured his sudden turmoil and frowned slightly. Was it possible that something greater than mischief had linked the two men? Interesting...

"Vote!" demanded the bald elf.

"I agree with Drizzt."

"I agree with me," the latter said brashly.

"Do you like clowning around?" the assassin mumbled slowly and angrily. To his point of view, in their situation, having fun was uncalled-for.

"Better than finding amusement in slicing people or walkin' around with a big sword to say 'I'm dangerous, leave me alone'. Really, you're a master and a model in the subtle art of social interactions."

"Don't go there with me, child."

"Forgive me _daddy_, the next time we'll fight to resolve our conflicts. You liked that, if I remember well."

Jarlaxle had watched the exchange with a growing interest. To be truthful, he was particularly enthusiastic with Drizzt's presence: the younger Drow brought a nice touch of mischief and innocence to the trio, teasing Artemis as much as necessary, and he made Jarlaxle think of Zaknafein, which was indeed melancholy but pleasant. Moreover, the ranger was skillful on the _friendship stuff_. More or less.

"A word more, stupid Do'Urden, and I pierce your pathetic heart to devour it!"

"With spiced sauce?"

Jarlaxle bit his tongue not to burst out laughing. Delightful. "Sorry children, you'll enjoy the gastronomic possibilities later. We have a dragon to track down!"

Drizzt frowned. "Shouldn't we wait until tomorrow to leave? We said we were here to rest a bit."

"True, but I contacted Kimmuriel - instead of a stupid unknown wizard of Baldur's Gate. He will transport us to Calimport at dawn. There, we'll have to find a boat and... to the Jungles of Chult!"

"This idiot could not open a gate in the forest?" Entreri asked nastily.

"I think he won't accept. Too many trees. You don't want to reappear in a trunk."

* * *

Leaning on the rail of an elegant exotic ship with pallid crimson sails, Drizzt sighed for a long time. To find a ship in the slums of Calimport had not been a so difficult task. On the contrary, notably thanks to the artful and skilled Kimmuriel, negotiations had been concluded very fast. However, Jarlaxle had insisted so that it was the young Drow who took care of the contract's modalities. It was not question to busy him then, but rather to measure his capacities in an unpleasant fauna. It was not the mercenary who had insisted on the presence of Drizzt within the team - and really, he was amply satisfied with it - but he was anxious, in an appearance of professionalism, to measure Drizzt's capacities. If he had to accompany them, he should not be a complete burden. 

Then Drizzt had obeyed, as a well-trained dog would have done. He hated himself, showing himself so weak, and being incapable to face Jarlaxle's will. It seemed to him to be only a marionette in the Drow's expert hands. Terrible. He still saw the scene: this inn plunged in subdued lights, decorated with red and orange hangings, in rich smells of tobacco and rum. He saw the tanned and wrinkled face of the ugly merchant again, a cruel smile on his lips, not wishing to give in to the demands of the three companions accompanied with Kimmuriel. He remembered the feline and imperceptible gesture of the hireling with a hat, and the influence that this gesture had had on him. Unsheathing a scimitar, Drizzt had threatened the throat of the haggler and had pronounced hideous threats of a voice which was not really his.

Maybe it was the Hunter who answered Jarlaxle's silent call, the one who murmured promises of tortures to Entreri in the darkest of the night. Maybe it was the real Drow warrior who slumbered in him... At least, Drizzt wished he had not uttered such horrors. That did not look like him. Was he becoming corrupted in the contact of his Nemesis?

"Leave your mind in rest, Drizzt. Do not fret with such questioning. This arrant gangster deserved that you threatened him in this way. You do not have to regret," whispered Jarlaxle in his ear.

Drizzt jumped. Jarlaxle's jewellery began jingling. Damn _dweomer_! The younger Drow scowled, mad at himself for being too negligent about his surroundings. "I'm going to look like you eventually, Jarlaxle, can't you see the problem?"

Jarlaxle had an infinitely sad smile that he would never have let appear if he had been conscious of it. "You already look like your father. I won't and don't want to change what he made of you."

Cutting him off, Artemis came on the quarterdeck, going out of the docks. Unshaved, he seemed tired, and maybe seasick, but Zaknafein's son knew the truth. With each hour, the assassin was more worried about Dwavhel's survival. Drizzt reprimanded himself. How did he dare not to think about Catti-brie, but only about his own little problems? That was so selfish and self-centered...

"Catti-brie... How is she?" Jarlaxle asked abruptly, as he had read his fellow's very thoughts.

Drizzt stared at him with surprise. "How could I know? She has been kidnapped, if you have _forgotten_ that. I guess she's not really fine!" he spat.

"That's not what I meant, stubborn Drow. How is she in bed?"

Entreri lifted his head up, suddenly interested. That was the first time that he was not Jarlaxle's privileged victim, and he wondered why. Had the mercenary found a weakness in Drizzt's friendship armoury? That could be Artemis's retaliation for the spiced sauce heart...

"I... That's none of your business, Jarlaxle." Drizzt stammered, his skin even darker than two seconds before.

Jarlaxle opened wide eyes, trying not any more to hide his smirk. "Oh no... Drizzt! You're your father's shame! Zaknafein must be turning in his grave!"

Artemis frowned. "Could you explain?"

Drizzt cast him a murderous glare. "That's none of your business either! Stop harassing me Jarlaxle," he added weakly.

The blazing mercenary threw his rainbow-coloured cloak over his shoulder, took off his purple hat, ignoring his fellow, and sat by the assassin's side, on a rum barrel. "Dear Artemis, let me tell you a funny little story... Three radiant swordsmen were on their way to kill a naughty dragon in the jungle. Here we have our mighty hero, some kind of virtuous paladin. His name's Drizzt Do'Urden, he's a _Drow –_ stands for hot sex..."

"I wish I could see that," teased the human killer before considering the second meaning what his latest sentence. He blushed slightly and cleared his throat. "The Great Jarlaxle talks a lot, but we have never seen him seducing a girl who deserved that title," he clarified just after to avoid stupid remarks from Bregan D'aerthe's former leader.

Jarlaxle's smile widened. "I'll give you a private performance, Artemis, consider that a promise. Never mind, our faithful ranger – we're talking about Drizzt, remember? - is almost one hundred years old. He has been living with a charming human girl for twenty years, and he _has never slept_ with her, whereas he's deeply in love!"

Artemis was surprisingly caught in the game. Mocking his former enemy allowed him not to linger on the eldest Drow's proposition, and that was also so... alluring. "Wait a minute, has he ever slept with a girl?"

Drizzt's skin became even darker. He gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the sellswords' laughter.

Jarlaxle sighed with empathy. "No. He had had his chance with a Lloth's priestess during his studies – so I was told by Vierna Do'Urden herself – but he refused her during the Ceremony of Graduation, in the Academy... Still, I can understand why. What a pity, the finest warrior of the Realms is still a pure, sinless and chaste _virgin_."

Artemis understood that Drizzt's darkening skin was a sign of deep blushing, shame and embarrassment. That was amazingly cunning, actually.

"Leave me alone!" Drizzt muttered between his clenched teeth. His lavender eyes were flashing with wrath.

"Dear Drizzt, don't be dead set against our mockery!" Jarlaxle's seemed to be indignant about the younger dark elf's excessive reaction. "Artemis and I are just teasing you..."

"I'm not amused with that!"

"The little drowling is angry... Isn't that cute?" hissed Artemis with a sadistic smirk. This time, in a twinkling of an eye, he had got the hang of the ranger's nerves. Even if he was going to seem to be a bit childish, the assassin wanted to keep on manipulating his bad mood. "I also guess you never kissed her either. She seems to have nice, full lips, yet..."

"Does he even know how to do it?" the other dark elf laughed openly.

Literally fed up, Drizzt turned round, clutched Artemis's collar and... kissed him. Roughly.

Out of breath, the assassin stayed there, immovable and astonished. Drizzt drew him even closer to his body, pinning him to his coat of mail and scratching his forearm on the tiny metal buckles. "Here's your answer. Now. Leave. Me. Alone." his voice was just a deep, rich and intense susurration against the assassin's mouth.

Then, Drizzt came back into the docks, without a glance behind, his cloak lashed by the warm wind and the milky foam.

* * *

The beautiful and ethereal lady burst out laughing. What a change in their relationships! Maybe she could offer them a bit of help through their perilous journey to the Jungles of Chult, a reward for their impressive progress... From her charming balcony, she blew gently into the humid air, singing like a frail bird, her long hair drifting in the air like fragile silver feathers.

* * *

On the Shining Sea, the ship's carmine sails slowly blew up. Lifting his head towards the azure sky, Jarlaxle let a delighted smile curve his thin lips. They were gaining speed.

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**Thank you for reading! Drop a little word until next update!**


	8. Wet and Hurt

**Hi everybody! Here comes the seventh chapter of Feint Within A Feint, hope you'll like it! Thanks to every reviewers, you rock!  
**

**_Iceheart Firesoul_ : Salvatore seems to love complicated dragon names... I think you'll be satisfied: the characters are going to blush more now. Artemis did not react because 1) He was too shocked to complain 2) It served my interests. I'm a real tyrant.**

_Surreptitious Chi X_ : You know, the dialogue you imagined was partly the reason why Drizzt kissed Artemis instead of Jarlaxle. This latter was a bit too dangerous. Thank you very much!

_Linndechir_ : Kimmuriel's going to appear in the second part of this story. That's nice indeed. And YES, Drizzt deserved to be teased by his companions... You naughty little fan as far as the private performance is concerned, YAY!  
Thank you too!

_Sushi-san85_ : Welcome to 'My Mind Is Filthy And Pretty Lecherous' Yaoi FanClub! And you'll see in the next chapter (not this one) that sometimes, one is able to stun Jarlaxle. Your compliments make me blush! Thank you very much.

_Lessiehanamoray_ : Oh yeah, Artemis is the target... but he's not the only one!

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Chapter Seven : _Wet and Hurt  
_

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The night had this imperceptible aspect which had always enchanted Drizzt's heart. It was in these moments of complete quietness that he felt in peace with himself, in a state of serenity with the infinite world which surrounded him. In these moments, he remembered his first nights spent on the surface, waiting for the darkness to fade and to allow the sun a brilliant and warm ascendancy. That night, aboard the ship, in the dark hours before dawn, he knew that he could have felt in peace, again, his soul washed of all the wounds brought by the darkness of doubt. He would have liked giving way to this delight, but several questions were swirling in his mind. Catti-brie was the most painful of them, doubtless.  
Silently, hands delicately surrounding the medallion adorned with a unicorn's head, Drizzt prayed to his goddess, wishing that this one would have spared the young lady sufferings and misfortunes. Mielikki only could know why a dragon brought out of past's intestines could threaten Artemis Entreri, and Drizzt Do'Urden indirectly. After all, this dragon had only been a disguise against another dragon, not far from Miramar... Something, like Jarlaxle himself had said, was out of place.

_Oh Catti-brie, why did I leave you alone? You should have been able to defend yourself! Even Guenwhyvar, my faithful friend, was not able to protect you, and gods only know where she has disappeared..._

Regrettably for the mental integrity of the young dark elf, his dear friends' safety was not all which counted. No, there were also questions brought by the company of Jarlaxle and Entreri: morbid regrets to never have been able to be like them, free as the wind, untied from any obligation, living at the rhythm of their envy, of their desires. Nevertheless, this way of life sounded forgery at the virtuous ranger's ears. No, these half-existences arisen from greediness and pride had not led both mercenaries very far. The first one had become a shadow of himself, literally; as for the other one, he seemed to refuse himself any success without the silent acceptance of his companion. Since when did Jarlaxle need anybody other than himself?  
And this preposterous discussion on the quarterdeck... Drizzt was humiliated with it only by thinking of it. He had stretched out the stick to be beaten! His childish and instinctive reaction made him even more shameful. However, in his conscience, he could not refrain from approving silently. At least, he had shut up these two rogues!  
He let a light sigh cross his lips before lifting his head towards stars, then contemplating the dark sea as far as the eye could see, reflecting the moon's pale disk on its agitated streams and waves.

Suddenly, the flashy boots of Jarlaxle resounded against the long wooden boards. For once, he made some noise before arriving in the back of his peer... The fascinating Drow scrutinized emphatically his younger fellow by leaning untidily against the mizzen mast.

"I come to obey you," he explained peacefully, his voice smooth and rich.

Drizzt just raised an eyebrow.

"I present you my most humble apolo... apolo... I can't."

Zaknafein's son bit his lip to try to hide his smile.

"Another smallish effort?"

"Apolo... gies."

Drizzt clapped, finally laughing. "They're accepted! You're going to need more training so that Entreri, from his part, agrees to hear them. Don't wait for him to die and be buried to spit 'I' m sorry' over his coffin."

Jarlaxle shrugged, with one of his big disconcerting smiles. He was certainly going to tell a joke when a heavy whistling flew in their direction. Both elves moved back with vivacity, while a cannonball black as coal kicked the mizzen mast down, throwing tens of enormous wooden splinters in the air. Running up beside Drizzt, Jarlaxle helped this latter to get up, roaring with laughter. "Gods – or pirates – were not appreciated to see me apologizing. It's your fault in fact!"

On the poop deck, the poor captain screamed "We're attacked!" over the docks.

Drizzt unsheathed his scimitars and ran towards the boat's edge. His elven eyes allowed him to scrutinize the area around the elegant ship. He was expecting illegal sailors on a schooner in the mist, but he discovered a vast number of feluccas dancing on fierce waves. He estimated them at fifteen, but he could not verify his approximation. Arrows were flying towards him.  
He knelt down, as one of them whistled just above his head. The captain barked contradictory orders, but Jarlaxle and Drizzt just ignored them. They exchanged knowing glances and jumped near a heap of ropes. With a smirk, the mercenary caught one of them and his fellow by the waist, drawing him closer, and cut the line, throwing them into the air. They flew gracefully over the tides and landed on a towboat, swords drawn. The unfortunate buccaneers were literally carved before they could even articulate or voice a bloody gurgling. Laughing like a lunatic, Jarlaxle slapped the younger dark elf on the neck and jumped overboard, levitating, to reach the next craft.  
His enemies, reduced to a pulp, only screamed in horror and pain.  
Drizzt raised an eyebrow and looked around him to judge his possibilities. Unlike his fellow, he could not use the dark elves' natural gift. He had lost it more or less when he had arrived on the Surface. However, the Drow was pragmatic, he had learn with Deudermont how to sail and could catch up with another boat easily. He pushed the corpses overboard and pulled on the ropes to make the canvas blow up with the wind. The little boat ate up the distance and hit a felucca. Preferring to spare the pirates' lives, Drizzt just scared them using _faerie fire_,revealing his dark skin and giving a hint of a blood-thirsty smile. That actually worked. The two brigands fled jumping in the water, panic-stricken.

"Braggart!" Jarlaxle yelled from his own vessel. "You're a damn Drow, Drizzt! Please play according to the rules! Fight!"

"I'm not the one behaving like a wild animal..." mumbled the younger dark elf. Drizzt threaded his way between ropes and sails and found out that a sailor had not jumped overboard. The young boy may have been a seventeen-year-old teenager, dressed with a dark blue tunic and wearing strange cowl and scarf on his face, hiding his features. Blond hair was escaping from his hood, half-concealing a bright golden eye.

"I will fight!" he stammered, shaking.

Drizzt shrugged. "So much the better: I'm armed, you're not, it'll be easier for me." The boy hardly swallowed. He seemed to hold his breath. "Take me on our ship and I'll let you go," Drizzt went on. "Actually, I don't want to harm you. What's your name?"

The teenager seemed taken-aback by this answer. He bumbled before managing to articulate his name: 'Nybalkiusdeehallwil'. Drizzt's eyes widened, wondering why parents would like to give such a complicated name to their child. "That's going to be 'Ny' for me," he decided. "Let's go."

The youth did not complain and obeyed, watching intensely his passenger doing so. They arrived at destination and Drizzt was going to leave the sailor behind him to climb on the hull, but a cannonball exploded right in their craft. They were thrown out of it, right into the sea. A enormous splinter was driven into Drizzt's thigh in the explosion, and he felt his ribs break with a hard impact. He was going to drown, but a hand grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the surface. A breath of wind rushed in his lungs and he clenched his teeth in suffering. He realized that Artemis Entreri was drawing him out and this latter succeeded in making him go on board. The rowing boat almost capsized but the assassin managed to keep its balance.

"I shouldn't be watching over your senseless life, stupid elf!"

Drizzt coughed violently, feeling his leg becoming numb. Blood darkening his sight, he believed he was going to faint, but when his savior pulled the splinter out of his leg, his consciousness remained as he was crying in pain.  
A solid rope fell on the small boat, and Nybalkiusdeehallwil shouted: "This way!" He had managed to climb on the bigger ship and had launched a rope to help the two men catching up with him. Artemis held Drizzt tight and let the youth make them get back on the deck. He never wondered how a slim and frail teenager could lift two grown-up men that easy, though.  
On board, battle was raging. Yet, the attacked men had no problem repelling their enemies, notably thanks to Jarlaxle's numerous spells. The blazing mercenary had literally devastated the assailants' little ships which were then burning on the sea, as torches and braziers reflecting stars in the sky. So, when Artemis and Drizzt arrived on the poop deck, the human killer got rid of the few attackers only with whirling his sword and dagger around. Soon, the battle ended.

Jarlaxle levitated to catch his companions up. Sitting on the floor, Drizzt was curbing painful moans, his broken ribs echoing the wound in his thigh. The other Drow did not wait for taking his healing orb from a pocket. With Jarlaxle singing along, the magical device closed the wound but the dark elf put it away fast as too many spectators could ask him to heal them with it. He did not want its magic to be drained so soon.

Jarlaxle glared at Entreri and talked to him under his breath. "His ribs are mending. Bandaging him will be enough. Do it while I'm taking care of eventual complaints from the crew."

Artemis protested but he heard threats pointed at the youth who had saved them. Drizzt had heard too, for he called the captain, explaining to him that the sailor was innocent and that he had saved the assassin and him. As the captain was owing the swordsmen his life and job, he ordered his men not to hurt the mysterious teenager. This latter thanked the Drow and remained on board, hired by the ship's owner, and asked to accompany the purple-eyed elf.  
Sighing from exasperation, Artemis helped Drizzt to stand up, not without kindness, and just ignored Nybalkiusdeehallwil. They got back in the docks, in their cabin. The human made Drizzt sit on a smashed bed and searched in his things to find some dressings.

"Keep him awake," Artemis ordered icily.

The boy nodded shyly.

"Thank you Ny," hissed the Drow, his eyes already closed.

"You're welcome, sir. Er... I've heard you were heading for the Refuge Bay, in Chult. What... are you looking for?"

"A dragon," Drizzt revealed with grandiloquent raised eyebrows. "Mergandevinasander, to be precise. If by chance you know where the big pompous worm is living, any information would be welcome..."

Ny swayed about on his feet. He bit his lips and his golden eye was shining from discomfort. "Actually, I... I know the jungles quite well. I was told the black... dra... dragon was taking refuge in ancient ruins, in the heart of the swamps."

Drizzt opened an eye, curious. "You could be a guide?"

"Er... Yes. If you accept me, sir, o-of course."

Artemis came back with the bandages. He chased the youth, barking he would have to come back later. Nybalkiusdeehallwil nodded nervously and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

The assassin cursed and sat on the bed. "Take your tunic off. How do you feel?"

Drizzt complied, throwing the dipped fabric on the floor. "Wet and hurt," he replied then. As a matter of fact, his hair and skin were streaming with water.

Artemis wound strips of cloth around Drizzt's chest skillfully, knotting and gathering them together. "If I had been told that one day I would be looking after Drizzt Do'Urden... I wonder if I'm not crazy suddenly," he muttered. "Jarlaxle must be laughing... Next time you'll make sure that no cannonball is aimed at your boat."

"Yes, daddy..." Drizzt hissed as pain was vibrating in his whole body.

Silence settled while Artemis was achieving his work. Not ill-at-ease at all, rather unconscious in fact, he felt Drizzt's thigh and began massaging it with little pressures. _Several days_, he thought, _and the wound will be completely cured_. Under the killer's touch, the Drow felt that the suffering was soothing and that pleasure was slowly replacing it. At the moment, he put the thought that his savior was his greatest enemy aside and he appreciated the rare instant. The massage was literally divine... He let a barely audible moan escape his lips, still, Entreri's ears caught that sound. A smirk appeared on his thin lips.

"You're at my mercy, Do'Urden."

The dark elf did not go to the trouble of blushing. "Willingly," he retorted. "I didn't know you were such an artful healer, Entreri..."

This latter ignored him and kept on relieving his patient from the pain. "By the way," he said flatly. "You _do_ know how to kiss."

That made the ranger flush. "Sorry for that. My mood was a bit upside-down and I reacted like a little brat that you must think I am."

Silence came back, but it was not charged with animosity or mistrust any more. Indeed, Drizzt felt warm, safe and fine, and he realized he was enjoying the assassin's company. Their little game of competition and rivalry was nice and fun and Zaknafein's son knew their relationship had changed with their journey. _T__he enemy of today is the I of yesterday, and the friend of tomorrow, huh? _Even if that adage was surely soppy and sickly sentimental, it had something which sounded true. The only thing that Drizzt could hope was that they could remain... maybe friends... even after they would have rescued Dwavhel and Catti-brie.  
Artemis was almost thinking the same thing, even if that possibility was scaring him. The word 'friend' had no meaning to him, Jarlaxle and the halfling put aside. That concept was something new to him, but not as horrid and impossible as before. Maybe he could make an effort. Maybe he could really get along with the elf. Maybe they would really sympathize... But that was so... dangerous! Friendship meant betrayal, sufferings and the-gods-only-knew what. He should not have rely on someone else than Charon's Claw.

The flesh under his fingers was warm and soft, even through the trousers' fabric. The assassin suddenly recognized his face was close to Drizzt's and that their position could raise vicious or lecherous interpretations. Yet, he did not want to end their recent and fresh intimacy. He had never felt like that with someone else, as if... yes... as if he was needed, understood and alive. Still, that very situation broke all his life codes and precautions.  
His hands remaining on the elf's thigh, Artemis lifted his head slightly, and his eyes peered at Drizzt's. Silver met lavender, and both colors stayed anchored in each other. Silence was only troubled by their short breaths. Their lips were so close...

The door burst open and Jarlaxle entered with enthusiasm, the feathers of his hat bouncing with each of his steps. Separating brusquely, Drizzt blushed as Entreri remained impassive.

"What do you want, old madman?" this latter asked flatly, as if nothing had happened.

"To inform you that Chult and the Refuge Bay would be in sight tomorrow! Oh, and that little Nybal-I-don't-remember-what will guide us through the swamps, free and gratuitously!"

As the mercenary kept on babbling, Drizzt could not help himself thinking that he had been within an inch of doing something he would have regretted for the rest of his life.  
Still...

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**Thank you for reading! And don't forget to drop a word!**


	9. Swamps, Peatbogs and Sloughs

**Hi everybody! Here is the next chapter, kindly beta-read by Surreptitious Chi X, as ever.**

**_Linndechir _: I do have problem with battle scenes... even in French. Yet, I think the next one won't be too bad. That would be for Chapter 9. Jarlaxle is so foul sometimes.**

_Sushi-san85_ : Indeed Nybalkiusdeehallwil is a great name but... I don't know if would name my child after him!

_Iceheart Firesoul _: Feluccas are Egyptian boats!

_Lessiehanamoray _: I thought that a good fighter should be a good healer at the same time. That just makes sense.

_Berg'inyon Baenre-Senshi _: Read and you'll know.  


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Chapter Eight : _Swamps, Peat-bogs and Sloughs (stands for big problems)  
_

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Refuge Bay had appeared in the early hours of day, at the bow of the boat, shining and lit by paintbrushes of sunlight. For the three companions, this appearance had been a reassurance. They did not wish to undergo pirates' new attacks, furthermore, they dreaded the nearness of the deadline. One week had already passed by, and still, never had the rhythm of their ride been so fast for the three travelers.

The ship cast anchor not far from long pontoons, ruined and eaten away by unknown creatures. Drizzt, Jarlaxle, Entreri and Nybalkiusdeehallwil abandoned the rest of the crew and sank into the small harbour village which was used as an extension of the communities living around the bay. Ny led the bounty hunters and the ranger through the streets, under a sky which promised to stay as blue as sapphires all day long. Alleys were zigzagging between constructions of bamboo or corrugated iron, attached by ropes, with roofs constituted of gigantic palm tree leaves. These architectural details did not stop them. Ny taught them that a raid in the jungles of Chult was not to be improvised. He recommended an equipment neither too heavy, nor too much bulky. Jarlaxle granted some golden coins of one of his numerous purses to buy long poles and ropes, lanterns, food and several flasks of drinking water. According to the teenager, they should have lingered longer in the village, but neither Entreri nor Drizzt wanted to prolong the confinement of their friends.

"We are good hikers," the young dark elf said. "It is not necessary to waste time to prepare us."

The primeval forest started at the port's exit, a temple of brown and green pillars, laces of emerald moss. In a hurry, the walkers stole between trees, beginning immediately wading in fetid and brackish seaweed.

The murderer scowled, feeling his boots growing heavy in the gurgling mud. "Wonderful, a malefic swamp where the villain hides and which is necessary to cross before reaching the treasure."

"I did not know you as a stereotype lover, Entreri," commented Drizzt, himself becoming muddled in the high grass.

"I've been living with stereotypes for long years," the killer answered darkly. "At least, with the bloody dark elf – I mean Jarlaxle, I know a bit of change."

Jarlaxle may have been the most miserable of the group: his rich clothes were stained with clay and dirt, and his legs were getting stuck in the quagmire. He was cursing aplenty, sometimes scaring Ny with his exotic and imaginative swearwords.  
The hillsides were going down to form an inextricable mangrove swamp. It was made up of imposing big trees, with roots diving into salt water come from the coast. From the first area of water appeared kinds of pickets which were in fact trees' air roots; then palm trees themselves had their roots muddled and formed a real interlacing around trunks and ruts. A sort of foam was developing, hanging on trees, eventually forming dark green tapestries.  
The progress was difficult. Regularly, one of the walkers sank into the sticky and stinking swamp. A brilliant and milky light already gave headaches to the Drow. Strong smells persisted, those of rotten vegetables and salted steams. Roads drooped into the peat-bog, rarely leading somewhere and presenting a tendency to end in a deadlock, on an area of water or quicksand, or to wind infinitely without any reason.  
Every step cost the unfortunate travelers. Fatigue, ice-cold sweat which streamed... Everything contributed to transform the crossing into a hell. Finally, they did not even feel any more the insects which devoured them, at best they gave themselves a slap without enthusiasm to crush some of these unwanted hosts. If they stumbled, they hardly drowned themselves in the sticky and soft pools of mud that dipped definitively their fetid and close clothes.  
However, thanks to Nybalkiusdeehallwil's indications, they did not get lost in the labyrinth of canals and dead ends. At midday, they stopped finally on a heightened mound. A stony cairn throned there, covered with lichen, but having the inestimable advantage of being dry.  
Cursing, exhausted, Artemis sat on a scorched rock, looking with disgust at the tiny leeches hitched up to his arms.

"The Nine Hells must be swamps," he hissed.

Drizzt caught up with him, with a pebble and tinder. In spite of the humid atmosphere, he managed to set fire to small twigs and burnt the repelling creatures. "They must love shade blood."

"Very funny, Do'Urden. I rather think they can't stand fool blood. That's why Jarlaxle and you have been spared..." Inspecting his arms, he scratched mosquito bites furiously with new curses. "Damn! We don't even know where this bloody dragon lives!"

Drizzt held him back from tearing off his own skin. "Stop! I'll call Ny, he must know some kind of remedy to soothe the pain."

Indeed, the teenager gave the assassin a piffling bottle of citronella and particular seaweed. The dark elf applied the cream to the human's skin, much to Artemis's relief. He thanked the ranger with a softer glance.

"I am told the dragon stays near Lake Luo's bank, North of the Peaks of Flame," the young pirate said. "We may need two or three days of hiking."

Jarlaxle got rid of his muddy boots, as bad-tempered as Entreri. The universe of water and soil, the ceaseless and deafening humming of the thick clouds of mosquitoes and the scorching heat disturbed the mercenary's vision and got on his nerves. His imperturbable cheerfulness could not resist to that horrid treatment for such a long time.  
With the afternoon, patches of fog interfered insidiously in the landscape, convenient to every error, to every fantasy.

Bregan D'aerthe's former leader took brackish rations out of his bags. "I suggest we stay here for the rest of the day."

"Agreed," sighed the other members of the expedition.

They settled the encampment, fighting to light a campfire. The gestures of everyday life took epic and chivalrous dimensions. Sometimes, under certain lights, the peat-bog took iridescent and beautiful tints. However, in the sloughs, sound reached the four men often modified, deformed, amplified, all in all worrying. A strange and piercing shout burst away, doubtless from birds, but it seemed to sound next to the adventurers.

Jarlaxle, not wanting to dive deeper in his depression, tried to start the conversation, sitting next to Nybalkiusdeehallwil, taking off his hat to rub his bald head. "So tell me, Ny-I-don't-remember-what, why did the pirates attack us?"

The youth coughed and flushed, hiding behind his white scarf. "Er... I don't know, sir. I... I was just a sailor hired by a buccaneer of Calimport."

"And how old are you?"

Artemis laughed darkly. "Are you trying to seduce him, old lecher?"

Jarlaxle did not hide his smirk. "You stole from me my little drowling. I'm falling back on our mysterious golden-eyed sailor."

Drizzt made a face. "I'm not _your thing_, Jarl'." His voice was vibrating from anger and indignation.

"Right," the mercenary said, contrite, his palms up to prevent any manifestation of ire. "Let me rephrase: I'm falling back on our mysterious golden-eyed sailor because Artemis had something I had not. I'm a jealous person, you see, and I can't stand that someone gets something I can't. So I'm compensating for it."

"And what did I get?" Artemis asked, even if he felt as if he really, really did not want to know.

"A kiss from Drizzt."

The three other men looked offended and outraged. Artemis pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to understand what new insanity has invaded the dark elf's mind. As for Nybalkiusdeehallwil, he kept a worrying eye on the bounty hunters and the ranger – even if he was satisfied that he had escaped Jarlaxle's question. Yes, _she_ had been right: their relationships were not simple. They even looked like brain teasers... How could he fix that?

"That stupid... kiss... or whatever... was just a retort, a provocation!" Drizzt said with rage in his lavender pupils.

The young pirate moved aside, his eyebrows high. These three dissimilar characters did not seem to share very well-balanced connections. And moreover the old Drow was trying to integrate him into this odd love triangle? If only he had known who – or what - Nybalkiusdeehallwil was, he would not have taken such an important risk. At least, the human and the younger elf could – maybe – improve what was arising from their intertwined hearts. The creature under human shape smiled under his scowl.

Jarlaxle just shrugged, replaced his boots and then his hat. He leant over the younger Drow with a crooked smile. "So... Provoke me, Drizzt."

Something was enlightening his crimson eyes. Maybe joy, or cruel amusement. However, to Drizzt's view, that little spark meant something else. He still had to prove himself as a man, worthy of his place in the group, or by the powerful mercenary's side. No, as a matter of fact, he still had to prove he was worthy of bearing his lineage. With that idea, the ranger realised that he himself was not the heart of the problem. Zaknafein's memory was. That kind of tortuous game might have been part of Jarlaxle and Drizzt's father's friendship, and the mighty mercenary was certainly seeking to find an echo of it within the young dark elf.

_I'm not my father, Jarlaxle. How can I make you understand that?_

Drizzt knew he should have resolved the problem with calm discussions and decisions. He was aware that Jarlaxle needed wise pieces of advice concerning his extrapolations and his connection with Zaknafein. Yet, Drizzt was tired.  
Nybalkiusdeehallwil's shyness was exasperating.  
Artemis had almost ignored him since their talk in the ship's docks.  
Jarlaxle kept on blackguarding him.  
He himself had walked all day long in a damn muddy slough. He could not behave sagely.  
Drizzt caught Jarlaxle's neck brusquely seemingly to give him the kiss of his life, but instead, he threw his knee right into the other Drow's groin, not without a sadistic satisfaction.

Zaknafein's son prevented the older Drow from falling on his suddenly weak legs. "You should be happy, Jarl'. I did not give _that_ to Entreri..." Drizzt whispered harshly.

"Ba... Bastard..." Jarlaxle choked.

Suddenly, standing up, the ranger ignored Jarlaxle who was uttering incoherent and strange sounds that nobody could understand but which claimed rather expressively his pain. He unsheathed his scimitars and cast an alarmed glance towards Entreri. This latter grabbed his own sword and dagger straight away. As for Jarlaxle, he was more or less choking, kneeling on the silt.  
Drizzt's lips moved without giving out a sound. The assassin understood immediately.

_There's something in the water._

_What is it?_ The killer expressed.

The last word of Drizzt before he advanced towards the hill's base was significant.

_Danger.  
_

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**Thank you very much for reading! Je vous souhaite à tous une très bonne journée ! Drop a word!  
**


	10. Because there's not only one Spider

**And Chapter Nine! ('dances') Hope you'll like it.**** Always beta-read by Surreptitious Chi X ('cheers').  
**

_**Surreptitious Chi X : **_**To be truthful, I thought that Jarlaxle could be extremely jealous and that he would have wanted to tease Drizzt and Entreri on that kiss matter. He hasn't said anything about their closeness in the ship after all!**

_**Lessiehanamoray : **_**I have personally undergone leeches in a jungle in Madagascar. Fortunately, this forest was not a swamp, but I thought exaggerating the facts would lay the foundations of this chapter.**

_**Linndechir : **_**I'll try to explore Jarlaxle-Drizzt interactions in the next chapters, but the scenario is not going to make my work easier...**

_**Iceheart Firesoul**_** : The Hunter is a groin-bumper, but that's a secret :p. And Nybalkiusdeehallwil will do what he will be able to! The exact translation of what I said is, more or less, "I wish you a good day"... So tell "Have a nice day", it will be good. The French word for 'journey' is 'périple'.**

_**Nariel**_** : That's exactly what my conscience told me.**

_**Ariel D : **_**I assure you I love Jarlaxle's hat. I wanted it for my birthday... And YEAH, there IS something going under the surface!  
**

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Chapter Nine : _Because there is not only one Spider on Jarlaxle's Web  
_

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The gorgeous lady removed her glance from the small pond which she used to watch the actions of the three companions. A unexpected noise had just disturbed her supreme concentration. Somebody had got into her apartments; and this person was not a mere thief. From the balcony, she could detect nothing, just the unreal balance of white curtains sweeping the wooden floor. No noise. No breath. Nevertheless, the enchantress knew well that there was somebody there. She slipped on her heavy velvet coat to protect herself from cold winds from North. Then, she penetrated into the room. The big four-poster bed, royal blue, showed only a part of its owner's wealth. Rich carpets, exquisite furniture and a diamond finery abandoned on silk pillows also made display of her riches.  
The archmage sat down in front of her hairdresser, seized a brush of ivory put on the tablet and began to brush her thick mane, humming a popular ballad. Suddenly, in the mirror appeared the silhouette which she had been waiting for. A smile appeared on her full lips, a roguish spark lit up her crystalline glance.

"Shall I demand wine for you, Mister Oblodra?" she asked casually, in the Drow language.

The dark elf remained unmoved and immovable. He was dressed in a long dark red robe, embroidered with golden runes, emphasizing his black skin and his stunning features. Handsome, his long snow-white hair fell on his shoulders with unfeigned grace. Kimmuriel Oblodra did not make the effort to force the mental defences of his hostess. Such an action would be useless against such a powerful sorceress.

Finally, he shook his head and sat down in a comfortable armchair of brocade. His crimson glance slid on the paintings and the tapestries, as well as on the porcelain services. "No, thank you. I want to keep a cool head, Lady Alustriel. Gods only know what can happen to me in the hands of one of the Seven Sisters."

"Wise decision, indeed," the venerable woman answered simply.

The psionicist frowned. He felt vulnerable in this place, as weak as a newborn child. This human female was powerful, beautiful, intelligent, thus dangerous. And she knew well his native language; Kimmuriel was beginning to think highly of her. The Drow turned the bezel of one of his rings towards his palm, guaranteeing him a temporary shield. Safety first. "I come to ask about the advance of your stratagem, Lady Alustriel."

The enchantress applied to her lips a deep red lipstick, finishing her nice make-up with an address arisen from habit. Then, when she had finished, she came to sit down in front of the sorcerer. "Don't you doubt my skills. You're talking to Alustriel Silverhand, Mister Oblodra."

"Are you following my master's requests?"

"Jarlaxle D'aerthe demanded nothing as for the way I had to set up this plan."

Kimmuriel hesitated. The High Lady of Sylverymoon understood immediately his confusion. "He didn't say anything to you, did he?"

The telepathist agreed slowly.

"As Bregan D'aerthe's leader, you need to be aware of all your surroundings. Jarlaxle will never reveal his plans to you, will he? Knowledge is power. You thus came to find information with me... My younger sister, Qilué Veladorn, told me about you and what you've done for her in the past." she whispered. "I'm in a good mood tonight, Mister Oblodra, then ask me what you want to know."

The dark elf's eyes narrowed. His hands caught nervously the armrests of his armchair. As a matter of fact, the sorceress was _really_ dangerous. He felt like a pathetic bird hypnotized by a sly snake. He had forgotten Alustriel's Drow sister, priestess of Eilistraee, whom he had met several years before, while he was still within House Oblodra. What was this human going to require this human in return for her information?

Alustriel laughed softly. Her voice was smooth and sensual. "Don't worry, Mister Oblodra, I look for no profit. Jarlaxle is satisfying my wishes himself."

Kimmuriel nodded again, slightly relieved. "What did Jarlaxle ask you to do?"

"Kidnapping a halfling, an innkeeper of Calimport, named Dwavhel Tiggerwillies."

"What for?" he went on, impatient.

Alustriel seemed to be really amused by the Drow's restlessness. "Jarlaxle wanted his companion - Artemis Entreri, you ought to know him - to find peace, realising he could feel something for someone else than himself. Actually, your master let me decide everything. He was to take part in the hunting for the kidnapper and, according to him, he wanted to have surprises and fun. I just had to hide Dwavhel somewhere safe and send Entreri and him where I wanted."

"And where's the halfling?"

The enchantress smiled seductively. "That, is a secret, dark one."

Again, Kimmuriel stirred awkwardly on his chair. Alustriel's narrative was completely likely, but something perturbed the elf. During his visions, he had clearly seen two other persons accompanying Bregan D'aerthe's former leader: Drizzt Do'Urden himself, and another creature endowed with great powers. He questioned the graceful lady on this subject.

She smiled with melancholy. "Since Jarlaxle left me free, I took advantage of it to organize a plan similar to his. Drizzt needed to put a cross over these difficult last years – above all over Ellifain. I'm allowing him to change his mind, to get along with his former enemy. He'll return to Mithral Hall with new hopes and desires. Their _young_ guide – Nybalkiusdeehallwil – is an _old_ friend of mine I'm returning a favour to. Why not kill _three_ birds with one stone?"

"Indeed," Kimmuriel acknowledged with a crooked smile. "All in all, Jarlaxle just doesn't know he's not the only one spider on his web. And he doesn't need to either."

"I'm glad you understand my approach, dear Kimmuriel." She snapped and a chambermaid came in with two glasses full of red wine. Alustriel offered one to the psionicist and dismissed her servant. They drank in silence, glancing at each other. Lady Alustriel, nevertheless a reasonable and quiet woman, could not refrain from finding the dark elf very attractive. His red dress collar opened on well-defined pectoral muscles which did not mar his majestic bearing. She captured a very different glance from the Drow. It was not curiosity or uneasiness any more, but lust which illuminated the almond-shaped crimson orbs. Leaving his armchair, the telepathist bent towards her and brushed his hair with his black lips.

As their hand intertwined, as a passionate kiss drove them into new realms of desire, the High Lady of Sylverymoon thought that accepting Jarlaxle's proposal had been an _excellent_ opportunity.

_¤¤¤_

Not far from the two swordsmen, the surface of the water moved slightly. The wave propagated on several metres, getting lost in rushes and mist. A loud rumbling rose through the air. A sparkling through the curtain of fog. Tortured trees cast threatening and fantastic shadows on the cairn. There was only silence. Waiting.

With a feline suppleness, Drizzt advanced on the slippery grass, squat, as a predator ready to strike.

Without a word, Jarlaxle took out of nowhere a wand of hazardous powers. If the enemy showed itself, the artifact's powers would cause many damages. Still, the creature in question had to come out of the mist. Entreri, for his part, firmed up his grip on Charon's Claw's pommel. Without him realizing it, the shadows around him gathered and wrapped him, strange shapes with attitudes almost... maternal. His vision was heightened, and for a moment, he was blinded. It was as if his eyes had become more photosensitive. More perceptible still than what infravision allowed.

However, the murderer, or the half-shade, felt more than saw the creature. It _was not_ in the water actually, no, its depth being too shallow. It did not hide either into the trees where leaves were raised softly by the wind. No, the creature hid somewhere else. A thin and milky trickle of drool descended almost with majesty on Jarlaxle's shoulder. The elf uttered a groan of disgust.

The three swordsmen raised their heads to discover that they were surrounded by their enemy. The soft stomach above their heads pulsed regularly, covered with hairs as grey as stone. Mandibles stirred fervently before its pinkish mouth. It looked like a huge arch supported by eight symmetric pillars.

Artemis swallowed. A giant spider. Lovely.

"Praise Lloth," Jarlaxle teased without a firm conviction.

The creature lowered with a piercing shout. It dropped brutally towards the ground to throw its enormous head towards one of its delicious preys. It attacked the most coloured snack. Its mandibles clicked with impatience, and it decided to poison its prey to take advantage of them later, in its dark nest. The spider pointed its sting coated with poison and cut through the air. Jarlaxle executed a back somersault and fell again with suppleness on a patch of slippery mud. He succeeded in keeping balance and pointed his wand at the animal's belly. He however had no time to cast the spell: one of the arachnid's legs just mowed him down. He collapsed in a puddle of mud with a curse.  
All this time, Drizzt and Entreri had not remained inactive. The first one had sheathed his scimitars to bend his bow and shoot an arrow which whistled through the air. The missile stuck into the connection between a leg and the beast's body with a noise of suction.  
The spider roared with pain. It rocked one of its giant legs to put her new enemy on the ground, but this one moved aside vivaciously and was able to avoid the charge. Entreri could not do so. The next blow reached him between his shoulder blades and he fell head first on the grass. Thanks to his superhuman reflexes and to the shade blood which flowed into his veins, he got up immediately and disappeared from the field of vision of the creature's sixteen eyes. Charon's Claw cut in two one of the pillars which held the monster, whereas Drizzt shot new arrows.

"Quicksand!" Jarlaxle warned, trying to extricate himself from some coating of mud which detained him prisoner. "Oh my precious hat..." he lamented. His beautiful and expensive clothes were ruined... Even levitation was useless in such a scenario. The spider's head tracked down this immovable target and charged towards it.

The invisible Artemis rushed to another leg and cut it methodically. This time more unbalanced, the wild beast was not able to bite the dark elf. An arrow embedded itself in the soft flesh of its abdomen. Furious, the spider spat a silk net which imprisoned the archer. Henceforth the last one able to fight, Entreri kept on sapping the creature's abilities, obliging it to get closer to the ground inexorably.  
Abandoning the useless fight which he had been undertaking for some minutes, Jarlaxle probed the mud to find his magic wand. When his hand closed above, he muffled a shout of victory and steered the flames towards the titanic spider. This latter yelled with fury and pain. It slid in the swamp, collapsing just over Entreri. The assassin brandished Charon's Claw at the fateful moment, and the blade pushed into the spider's belly, pouring a flow of warm, sticky and stinking fluids on the killer's head and shoulders. Artemis curbed swearwords not to swallow this vile substance inadvertently and tried to get out of this trap. Wriggling, he succeeded and promised in his heart of hearts to never set foot in a peat-bog.  
Drizzt had managed to get rid of the tangled silk membrane and had gone to Jarlaxle's rescue, bringing him towards the bank. Sickened, gummy, perspiring, sweaty, the three companions cast disgusted glances towards each other, then the mercenary laughed.

"Hard to be a hero," he said.

Relief gained them gradually before Drizzt realised somebody was missing. "Hold on, where is Ny?"

Through the mist, roaring resounded. A dragon's.

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**Hey! Thank you for reading! Drop me a word! ('smiles Jarlaxly')  
**


	11. Dragons Again?

**Still alive! Yes, still alive! Okay, let me explain my long absence in two words: mock exams. And holidays. That makes three, but that's enough. Well, however, I come back, and Chi has been kind enough to excuse my mistakes (I had put French punctuation everywhere... bad habits!) and beta-read this last chapter of the first part.**

**Hope it will please you, have a nice reading! **

Chapter Ten:_Dragons Again?_

While the fearless trio was discovering the banks of Luo's Lake, Entreri could not help thinking that some deity had to appreciate torturing his poor carcass. Not only he had been presented with a dark elf not only with psychedelic tastes and but also with deficient mental health, with a second Drow whose existential crises amounted to madness, but especially with an indisputable gift to incur troubles. And to entice dragons. Truth to be told, Entreri would have liked to go back straight away and withdraw in a very,_very_ distant country, with white goats. And a kitchen garden. Quiet life. Nevertheless, the assassin knew adventure was in his very blood. He had to admit it: he loved danger and battle. He just wished he did not have to meet so many dragons.

Still covered with the contents of the sticky, huge belly of the spider, Artemis wiped his face with the back of his gauntlet and firmed up his grip on Charon's Claw. On a calcareous cape an immense reptile was waiting, its scales night black.

The companions had run all day long, and at night, to arrive on the lake's banks, exceeding Nybalkiusdeehallwil's estimations.

Now, they looked for their companion, yet keeping an eye on the monster on the cliff in front of them. Its scales were of a black so deep that they became bluish in the milky beams of the sun. Its mouth was decorated with fangs that were mortal weapons, coated with poison, with acid. Lethal. Suddenly, an enormous shape appeared from the jungle behind them, pulling in its development an impressive quantity of boughs and leaves. When its wings began moving, clouds of dust lifted up in the air. With a hiccup of horror, Drizzt recognized a second dragon, of an oceanic blue. His elven sight allowed him to get the complexion of the immense furious eyes. Golden.

He understood.

"Ny! He's also a Dragon!"

"With so complicated a name, it just makes sense," Jarlaxle said matter-of-factly.

"Stop babbling a second," Artemis replied dryly. "Wait a minute... What is that black dragon holding in its claws?"

The human could just saw a tiny silhouette on the cliff. A white and red point.

Drizzt frowned darkly, before recognizing the figure.

"Catti-brie!" he shouted.

He instantly ran towards the cliff, walking around the bright blue lake, slipping on the gravel that trimmed the shore. A squeezing and she would die, or maybe the dragon would merely throw her into the lake. The thought of Catti-Brie's death gave him shivers. Never had he run so fast.

Artemis was running after him. He had lost his cool, hearing the girl's name. If Catti-brie was there above, Dwavhel must have been with her. He did not dare to think the Halfling could be dead; there was only hope in his race. However, he felt his chest aching. Years were catching up, wearing him out. Out of breath, he had to stop, eyeing Drizzt as he ran away towards the natural stairway that was more or less dug in the cliff. The assassin swore, feeling weak and this thought enabled him to carry on. Artemis Entreri was not weak. He would never let Dwavhel down. He had not the right to do so. In spite of the painful feeling that made him think he was going to vomit his lungs, he climbed the stairs minutes later, without seeing the dark elf any more, but clearly hearing the metallic clash of steel against what should have been claws or scales.

When he rose on the cliff, he discovered a different sight. Mergandevinasander and Nybalkiusdeehallwil were fighting each other in the air, right over the lake's placid waters, roaring deafeningly and spiting fire and acid. Long cuts or burns were bleeding on their stomachs or on the fragile skin of their bat-like wings. They were moving so fast that he could not distinguish one from the other; the sky seemed to be a blurred stain, dark and blue. From time to time, one of the extraordinary creatures would bite its opponent with all its strength, or get the upper hand, but in the impressive battle, no one could have named the winner-to-be.

The black Dragon was still imprisoning Catti-Brie in its claws, visibly not willing to let her go. There was nothing on the top of the cliff, except for Drizzt, watching, astonished, the terrible show on the edge. Artemis was looking for his Halfling friend everywhere, but Dwavhel was nowhere to be seen. The assassin was dreading the worst: what if the Dragon had already swallowed her as a _hors__ d'oeuvre_?

Suddenly, Drizzt took his bow and his arrows to aim at Mergandevinasander, but his arms were not enough assured. He was shaking desperately and biting his lips until he drew blood. He could hurt his friend in the confusion, so he did not dare to launch his shafts. After a moment's pause, his arrow flew right in the black Dragon's eye. Then, Nybalkiusdeehallwil blew flames right in its enemy's face. The blue Dragon took advantage of the momentary blinding pain to catch the black creature by the neck and break it fiercely.

Vanquished, Mergandevinasander fell...

... Releasing its prey.

Drizzt jumped to catch her. At least to die at the same time. He did not know what passed through his mind, he just realized she was falling, and that he had to save her. Without measuring the distance separating them.

Artemis saw him jump.

Growling out, he caught the dark elf's wrist and, dragged by the momentum, he crashed onto the rock, the air being violently pulled out of his lungs, feeling his ribs and his shoulder protest. However, he did not let him go.

"...Stu... Stupid... Elf," he managed to gasp.

His breath sent up dust. He coughed and tried to lift the Drow, stretching out his other arm.

"Take my hand!"

Drizzt leant on bumps of the rock and righted himself. Artemis grabbed him by his shirt's back and lifted him on the cliff. With such a violent effort, he fell back, dragging Drizzt on him.

"I shouldn't be the one watching over you!" Artemis growled.

"Catti-Brie," Drizzt whispered harshly.

He stood up and looked over the edge.

"Don't thank me, I mean, I've just saved your fucking life!" Artemis grunted, remaining on the ground.

The surface of the lake was still moving violently where Mergandevinasander had fallen, sending white foam in the air. Drizzt scanned the waters, fearing his dearest friend had disappeared in the dark blue depths. He felt his chest ache with a steady throb, a big black hole devouring him deep within. His cheeks were wet with streaming tears.

_Cat_...

All of a sudden, Jarlaxle rose before him, carrying the unconscious body of Catti-Brie in his arms, floating in the air, the feathers of his large hat waving.

"Always where I'm needed!" He hummed joyfully, landing gracefully next to the stunned Drow.

He put down the woman carefully, on a patch of grass, before kneeling beside the assassin.

"Playing the hero again?" he asked mischievously.

"Leave me alone. I'm fed up with... everything."

Nybalkiusdeehallwil caught up with them, basking in his victory. There was a flash, and the Dragon was gone, instead stood the young pirate, smiling brightly. His face was red with blood, and his left arm seemed to be badly hurt, but the teenager did not care at all.

"Thank you Drizzt, without that arrow, I wouldn't have been able to defeat him," he said.

Jarlaxle crossed his arms on his chest:

"I do think you have things to tell..."

"Indeed. I'm... well, a Dragon, and I've been living by this lake for centuries. Yet, two months ago, Mergandevinasander, who used to reside in the South, stole my nest and chased me. I asked my dear friend Alustriel to help me recovering my territory, and she said she would provide me with great warriors. Your courage gave me strength to fight and win."

"You did most part of the job," remarked Jarlaxle.

"Mergandevinasander was highly distracted by the prey he had to carry with him. Catti-Brie was part of the plan."

Drizzt, then kneeling next to Catti-Brie and spreading his green cloak on her, rose abruptly, astonished and furious.

"She was just bait and a burden! Does her life mean something to you! How did Alustriel dare to...!"

"Alustriel was only trying to help me, and to help you too. She wanted me to allow you to address her directly. There you are."

The disguised Dragon muttered a low and vibrating word. A glistening gem materialized in his hand, and he squeezed it softly.

The elegant and slender figure of the Lady of Sylverymoon seemed to pull her very essence out of the air around her, of the wind whistling in the foliage. Her handsome features were that of a queen, majestic and distinguished. A thick bluish smoke surrounded her, swirling gracefully in hypnotic arabesques. She smiled tenderly.

"Drizzt, my friend..." she began.

"How can you claim you're my friend when you try to kill mine!" he growled venomously.

"Let me speak, dear. Since you met Ellifain... or shall I say, since she died, you have been different, ineffably sullen and low in spirits. I couldn't stand seeing you like this: I had to do something. Therefore, when Nybalkiusdeehallwil asked for help, I thought that I could involve you in this adventure. The only way of doing it correctly was to capture Catti-Brie and to make you travel with old... acquaintances."

Artemis had caught up with Drizzt, frowning, his hand on the precious pommel of Charon's Claw.

"I don't get it... Why me? Why us?" he asked harshly. "And where's Dwavhel?"

"Dwavhel should be here too," the woman said, frowning with worry and surprise. "Have a look in the small hut below, by the lakeshore. She must be there."

"That doesn't answer my questions, why us?" the assassin urged on.

"Some secrets have to be told by those who hide them," she answered with a cocky smile.

Her image evaporated into curbs of blue haze.

Right then, Artemis descended the natural staircase and ran towards a ridiculously little cabin, standing like a half-starved old woman. The tranquil waters of the lake came and went rhythmically in front of the door, wetting its moldy planks.

"Dwavhel?" the murderer called.

No one answered. He entered the door, overwhelmed by a horrid smell of fish and curdled blood. Hooks were swinging, hanging down from the ceiling. Old pieces of rag covered the floor, gray with dust. Dwavhel was nowhere to be seen, but a parchment had been left on the only one piece of furniture of the hut. Seizing it, Artemis read silently. He could not decipher the message, for it was written in Drow. What has Jarlaxle done?

A second later, the paper was torn and crumpled in his hand.

It was Drizzt's turn to arrive in the hut, and he discovered Artemis violently shaking.

"What's going on?" he asked with sincere concern.

"In the Nine Hells, I don't know!"

Artemis was desperately trying to keep his voice steady, but he failed.

"Read. Aloud," he managed to articulate.

Drizzt did as he said.

_Kimmuriel Oblodra sends his greetings to Jarlaxle Bregan D'aerthe._

_At this time, Lady Alustriel must have revealed her entertaining machinations. If you and your filthy dogs have succeeded, the human girl should be alive. Nevertheless, what of the Halfling? She was part of _your_ plan, after all. I still do not understand why you are trying so fervently to inspire weakening _feelings_ in your pet, or why you sully yourself with such an impotent inferior creature... However, honestly, I do not care. At least, I did not, until you gave me the command of Bregan D'aerthe. You may have thought it could check my ambitions; let us merely say it has not. I want you to abandon definitively your stranglehold on my mercenary clan. But I am not reckless. Confronting you would have been a fatal mistake. I decided to strike where you had weakened your invincible armor._

_You now have to make a choice, Jarlaxle. Bregan D'aerthe, or your precious_friendship_ for this filthy thing you call Artemis Entreri._

_Let us meet in Baldur's Gate, at the _Pious Devil.

_Kimmuriel Oblodra._

Drizzt instantly reacted.

"We must go to Baldur's..."

"_I_'ll go," Artemis cut with a voice as cold as steel. "Jarlaxle would ruin everything, trying to profit from the situation, as always, and prevent me from killing that sneaky bastard. You stay here with your paramour."

"And let you face a Drow psionicist all alone? The very idea!" Drizzt sniggered. "He would burn you to ashes before you even see him! Yet, I don't understand what he meant..."

"Simple. Jarlaxle did to me what Alustriel did to you. They tried to ensnare us in some kind of quest to... I don't even want to know what for exactly, but the result is there. That was only a feint. And we walked enthusiastically into the trap." In his mind, the word 'betrayal' was sweeping aside the least of his thoughts.

"So, what are we going to do?"

"I said I'd go. Alone," Artemis snapped.

"That would be suicide!"

"Wake up damned elf!" the assassin snarled. "I'm your enemy, in the Nine Hells! A rogue, a thief, a murderer! Since when do you care about my well-being or me?"

"Since you are my friend!"

The answer took Artemis by surprise. He had not expected it. How could he have? With a rapid glance, he understood Drizzt himself had let the words slipped out of his mind without his prior agreement. Taken aback, the young elf stepped back, biting his lip nervously.

"Eventually, Alustriel succeeded," he whispered shyly. "I don't want you to..."

"Don't say it. I'm not ready for that. So be it," Artemis sighed, "and you'll accompany me. But what about Jarlaxle? And Catti-Brie?"

"We must leave this place without Jarlaxle. As you said, he would try to duck the issue. I think he still needs a psionicist in Bregan D'aerthe, so Kimmuriel would be spared. As for Cat... I... She has Guenwhyvar with her, I saw the figurine, and Ny will – I guess – keep an eye on her. I'm convinced my place is beside you, to rescue your friend."

Artemis only nodded, and then he left the hut, peering at the cliff, surveying the immobile silhouette of Jarlaxle. Moving slowly his hand, he motioned to the young elf to follow him into the forest. The major difficulty of their flight would be not to get lost in the swamps, and not to be caught up with by the powerful and resourceful Jarlaxle. No one could possibly imagine how many dirty tricks he could summon to fulfill the least of his desires.

Therefore, they disappeared into the jungle of Chult, once again.

Heading for Baldur's Gate.

_End of Part One – Cross-Roads._

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**Hey! Here I am again . Don't hesitate and review! And thanks for reading!  
**


	12. Pulling the Strings xxx The Sea Sprite

**Hi everybody! Yes, I know, it's been a long time since my last update, but I won't even try to find absurd apologies. I don't have any excuse . Anyway, I would like to thank the ones who helped me through this chapter: Surreptitious Chi X, Ziggy Sternenstaub, TheDragonclawMistress and Macabre Love. So, now, please enjoy the new chapter of _Feint Within A Feint_!  
**

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Part Two

Pulling the Strings

Chapter Eleven: _The Sea Sprite_

"There!" Drizzt said, pointing at a ship entering Refuge Bay.

Artemis nodded, casting a glance behind them in the misty and humid darkness of the jungles. They had just left the sinister swamps at dusk, and the assassin was dreading that Jarlaxle could make it up far too easily. Night was wrapping the bay in a royal blue haze, allowing the moonlight to pierce the darkness intermittently. On the cloudy waters, boats were pitching and tossing eerily. The two companions had been looking for a crew who would accept them aboard, but most of the ships in the bay were for fishing, and they would not cross the Shining Sea.

The ship Drizzt had seen was coming from the North, outside the bay, and was great enough to proclaim that it was not from Chult. It's lanterns appeared as small wagging fireflies, casting disturbing shadows on the waves. Artemis was only hoping the captain would be conciliatory on their subject.

"I... Wait Artemis, I think I know this boat..."

"At this distance?" he asked, skeptical.

"It's the _Sea Sprite_! Deudermont's!"

Artemis sighed, resigned. In his heart of hearts, he knew troubles were only showing up.

Captain Deudermont was highly surprised and delighted to see his dark friend at the other end of the world, literally in the middle of nowhere. Of course, he welcomed Drizzt aboard and asked him what he could do for him. Without admitting what was really going on, the Drow explained that he and his... companion... had to reach Baldur's Gate as fast as possible, for a friend of them had been captured.

"Always running after danger, are you not?"

Embarrassed, Drizzt winced.

"Danger seems to be fond of me, that's different. So... Can you take us aboard and drop anchor in Baldur's Gate?"

"I guess I can. Baldur's Gate is on my way. I wanted to leave Chult as soon as possible, for tales of a hazardous dragon are spreading in the haven. I don't want to lose my boat because of a big worm spiting fire on my head."

Artemis put on his impassive and cold mask. Things were moving faster, but now far too fast for his taste. Letting Drizzt do the talking, he tried to gather his wits. What had just happened, all things considered? That manipulative sorceress had hired Jarlaxle and his mercenary band to force Drizzt into running after Catti-Brie... maybe to make him realize he loved her. Women!... Apparently, Drizzt had met some kind of a girl, Ellifain or something like that, and their meeting had... disturbed him? Probably. So Alustriel had used this stratagem on the pretext of helping that blue Dragon. But what of him?

Jarlaxle had involved him in the adventure, using Dwavhel as bait. And indeed the Calimshite had bitten. The Drow also wanted to _change_ him, to confront his "weakening feelings" as Kimmuriel said. As he had done in the past with Idalia's flute. Artemis felt helpless and hurt: he had sincerely, or rather unconsciously, believed he could rely on the Drow, at least grant him trust. What a mistake. Jarlaxle had just used him like a toy, a little pet he could play with. That was so... disappointing...

And Drizzt... Why did he have to say such a thing? _Since you are my friend_. Nonsense. Artemis was nobody's friend. He was an assassin, in the Nine Hells! A killer, in cold blood, without remorse or culpability. How could he have become a paladin's friend? Drizzt was nothing but his very opposite. Nothing more! He was going to send him back to that redheaded girl and go to Baldur's Gate to punish the psionicist on his own. All alone. As he had always done.

With a deep growl of impatience, Artemis left the captain's cabin and stood squarely on the quarterdeck, arms crossed over his chest. No future was lying before him, only pain and hatred. And, somehow, disturbingly, he found that comforting. Nothing had changed. Everything was still the same. The world was a place of chaos, grief and treachery.

But, deep in him, like a flickering candle, hope was still glittering. And that little light of hope was gripping his heart tightly, as constricting vines. With an anxious and faint moan, Artemis clutched his cloak around him, as a chilly wind whistled in the sails. How much he wanted to dissolve into the shadows of the night, to become one of them, to forget all the things that were weighing him down! It was as if curls of darkness were dancing around him, brushing lightly against his cold skin, seducing him...

"Artemis?"

With a start, the assassin stepped back, his dagger unsheathed. Then he recognized the dark elf, and repressed a sigh of relief. But the enchantment was broken. Drizzt frowned. "Is there a problem?"

Regaining his control, Artemis sheathed his weapon and did not answer. He had been caught off guard. Because of the _Shade_ in him, that was lurking in his very heart.

"You looked strange." Drizzt stopped, as if he were dreading what would come next could sound laughable. "Looked like a ghost, in fact."

"Mind your own business. Are we going?"

Drizzt seemed hurt by his cold and harsh reaction. His frowning deepened. "Yes, we are."

"Excellent. Now clear off and leave me alone."

The Drow was going to retort venomously, but Deudermont called him at the helm. With a swearword, Drizzt caught up with him, without a glance back. He did not dare to look Artemis, for he was sure he would see tentacles of shadow still wrapping his figure, as a loving aura.

Things were getting complicated.

The following day, Drizzt decided he would not let Artemis dive into a state of depression or scowling. They had built a real partnership during their going through the swamps, and even before, when they had been attacked by the pirates. The dark elf could not help blushing at this memory. It had been more than simple partnership then, but that was not the matter. The Drow wanted to show the assassin that he was no Jarlaxle. That he could be relied on without reservation.

At dawn, as the _Sea Sprite_'s prow was slicing through the waves, Drizzt went up to the rear deck to find Artemis looking nervously toward the shore they had left behind them. Drizzt was almost sure he dreaded Jarlaxle's catching up with them. The shadowy tentacles had disappeared, but it was as if darkness were still floating around him, lying in wait.

"Hum... Greetings."

Artemis did not give him the honor of answering his greeting. Suspecting that kind of reaction, Drizzt suppressed his doubts and went on:

"I wondered if you would like to cross swords with me. I mean, not to get too rusty."

"I wouldn't."

Sighing, Drizzt unsheathed Twinkle noisily and threatened Artemis's shoulder blades. The assassin raised an eyebrow, not responding directly, but slightly moving his hand on his sword's pommel.

"You're beginning to get on my nerves, Do'Urden."

"Isn't it cute? The Great Artemis Entreri is getting worked up..."

Charon's Claw whistled through the air within an inch of Drizzt's head. The blow should have chopped his skull, but the Drow had stepped back in time. Drizzt burst out laughing, spreading his arms wide; welcoming Entreri's rage. The latter of the two, taking his dagger, hesitated. Where did the Drow want to lead him? Their gazes met.

"What do you want?" he said.

Drizzt did not answer, preferring to open his arms wider, as a tempting invitation.

"Flat of the blade?" Artemis asked.

He barely had the time to finish his sentence as Icing Death lowered toward his left tight. The assassin parried hastily, growling at his own carelessness. The deathly ballet began. On the deck or clinging to ropes, the mariners left their chores to admire the two fighters' grace and talent. The assassin understood it was not a fight like they had before. It was just about sparring, about having fun together. And it was the juiciest occasion to measure Drizzt's 'friendship'. Artemis missed a parry which should have guaranteed him a nice long scratch on his right side. The dark elf said nothing and struck on this opening with Icing Death's flat, to show he had seen it, but would not hurt his partner.

Artemis realized he was breathing easier. What if...? To escape a new humiliating slap of the Drow's scimitars, he threw his elbow forward and surprised his enemy by forcing him near the ship's rail. He focused his thoughts on the fight, for he was eager to see what was coming now. Not without difficulty, Drizzt tensed his leg muscles and with a sudden burst of his momentum that pulled upon every ounce of strength and speed the dark elf possessed, Drizzt propelled himself forward, tucking his body into an bold somersault. He wanted to surprise his enemy and strike him in his back, but Artemis was too fast and, having anticipated what would come, he was ready to counter the attack. Scimitars, sword and dagger met with flashing violence.

"Don't fool around!" Artemis snorted.

"Oh...I just wanted to fool around with you, you know..."

_Does he...? He can't mean what he's saying!_ The assassin thought, without being able to hide his deep blushing. Taking advantage of his position, Drizzt pushed and forced his opponent into twisting his wrists painfully to bear his weight. With a curse, Artemis realized he had to kneel to be able to free himself. He did so and dragged Drizzt in his fall. The Drow dropped his blades and, knowing that if he kept his own he would hurt the elf, Artemis could not but hold his arms out on either side of his body, lying motionlessly on the deck.

"You did it on purpose, didn't you?" he asked.

Drizzt stayed firmly where he was, half-lying on Artemis, a cocky smile dancing on his lips.

"Perhaps."

"Get off."

"Why should I?"

"I still have my sword _and_ my dagger. Which one do you prefer to be killed with? Or shall I drink your soul to the last drop of stupidity?"

Drizzt stood up, arm stretched to help the man. "I don't want you to become as stupid as I am," the dark elf explained mischievously. Artemis laughed, a rare and genuine reaction that gave his face a new and intoxicating beauty. Drizzt couldn't help but admire that surprising change, suddenly speechless. Artemis picked up Drizzt's scimitars and sheathed them by himself, as a clumsy demonstration of gratitude. Artemis Entreri would not thank his archenemy but he contented himself with showing the sparring had been appreciated.

Drizzt put his hands on Artemis's, still holding his scimitars' hilts. Their gazes met again, warm and steely at the same time.

"I am not your enemy anymore," Drizzt said softly, his lavender eyes seeking for the assassin's.

"But you're not my friend yet," Artemis whispered, his pulse a beating drum at his ears.

How could he have admitted that the delicate hands on his own were the most exquisite caress he had ever been given?

They departed, slightly smiling, but not daring to show the other the truth of it.

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**That's all folks, I hope this chapter pleased you, and don't be afraid of leaving a review!**

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	13. Into the Lion's Mouth

**Oh gods, I know I haven't updated for a looong time. **_Toutes mes excuses, mes chers_. **But you're going to forgive me? Right? Put these axes down, please!  
To answer to my amazing reviewers, here we are:**

**Iceheart Firesoul: The plot bunnies have eaten me up. They had trouble chewing the skull so here I am.**

**Zolarix Aster: Yeah, this is an undead story in fact. From time to time, it raises up from the grave.**

**Artemis' Entreri's Nr1 Fang.. ****: I'm afraid I did not understand your review. Could you clarify...? Well, wait. If it was flaming, you don't need to.**

**The Laughing Mann: Glad you liked it! Here's the new chapter!**

**Lunasea82****: Thank you very much, hope you'll like what's coming next.**

**Lady Annikaa: Thank you again, and enjoy!**

**And thanks to my wonderful Beta-reader, Surreptitious Chi X!**

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Chapter Twelve: _Into the Lion's Mouth_

* * *

When Artemis and Drizzt had left Jarlaxle, Catti-Brie and Nybalkiusdeehallwil behind them, they had not really thought of all the consequences such an act carried. Artemis could only think of the risk his friend Dwavhel was running in Kimmuriel's hands, and Drizzt was desperately trying to convince the assassin of his good intentions, which was a challenge. Anyway, neither could measure the danger of leaving Jarlaxle on his own by the bank of Luo's Lake.

The colourful mercenary, having just killed Mergandevinasander of Chult - or rather looked from the lakeshore at another dragon doing the job in his stead – now had other matters in mind. The reason he had accepted Alustriel's petty plot was, of course, the fact that he sincerely wanted to knock some sense into Entreri, but he could not ignore the fact that the word 'dragon' implied 'lair'. And the huge amount of gold, jewels, gems and artifacts inside.

Grinning from ear to ear, the Drow had made the most of Artemis and Drizzt's heading for the small bungalow on the shore to explore the cliffs. He had found the entrance of the Dragon's lair, and stepped inside, a magic wand ready if anything showed up.

The cavern had the highest ceiling the dark elf had ever seen, which was noteworthy in the comparison with the numerous cathedrals in Menzoberranzan Jarlaxle had the opportunity to pay a visit to as the leader of Bregan D'aerthe. Never-ending torches were hung high on the walls, noisily crackling and throwing tiny sparkles of golden light in the darkness around. Jarlaxle paid little attention to them, his sight changing swiftly to his native infravision. The tunnels before him headed deeper and deeper in the rock, their walls irregular and lightly seeping with unrecognizable moisture. Jarlaxle glided his finger on one of them to bring the liquid to his sensitive nose. Petrol. How was it even possible? Shrugging, the Drow continued exploring the subterranean complex. Soon, he arrived in an even bigger cave, but certainly not as empty as the previous one.

Jarlaxle had seen quite a few treasures in his long life. However, never had he imagined one could gather _so much_ in one place. Speechless, which was also noteworthy from him, the dark elf moved forward, wriggling between the titanic piles of gold and silver coins, taking thousands of precautions not to break any emerald plates or diamond glasses in his stealthy wake. His fascinated walk in this fantastic treasure chest brought him to the masterpiece of the collection. Resting on a velvet red cushion, surrounded by golden strings, a single wooden ring shone. Its bezel was a glimmering silver gem, inside of which strange waves were whirling in soft curls. Magic was literally pulsing from it.

The temptation of grabbing it was indeed great, but the clever bounty hunter knew better. Such jewels were charmed and could release powerful curses over the wrong bearer. Thus, Jarlaxle simply took it and stuck it in his dimensional purse, to examine it later. Maybe Kimmuriel would be eager to do that for him. The Drow was just about to pursue his exploration of the cave, but a deep growl behind him made him stand still. Slowly, he turned his head. Young Nybalkiusdeehallwil was glaring at him, his golden eyes two burning suns to the Drow's sensitive eyes.

"Please leave this place, Master Jarlaxle. In spite of all the respect I owe you, I cannot allow you to stay here. Some of the objects this room holds are far too dangerous for mortal hands."

_This was the same with Crenshinibon. I just have not to repeat the same mistakes, then_, Jarlaxle thought warily. Nevertheless, the Drow certainly did not want to return the precious ring he had just found, and Nybalkiusdeehallwil did not seem aware of its disappearing from the red cushion. Then, Jarlaxle did what he was the best for. He played. A disappointed look made his way on his delicate features, as a childish pout distorted his mouth.

"Couldn't I take a few…?"

"No, you cannot", the teenager-shaped creature snapped.

His eyes were glowing fiercely. Jarlaxle had met several dragons, even slept with one of them, he recalled not without pride and pleasure, and he did know that this look could mean a striking and brutal death within the next few seconds. The resourceful mercenary wore a handful of flashy trinkets that should have assured him a resistance against magic fire, but he was not particularly eager to try them out now.

With a graceful bow just stiff enough to seem annoyed, then, the dark elf left the cave, the rich colours of all these riches the very mirror of the amusement in his eyes. _Bah_, he thought, _I know where the cave is. If this scaled brat refuses to give me a part of his wealth, Bregan D'aerthe would be more than glad to get rid of a danger such as a dragon terrorizing Chult, or at least, that's what I would be pretending to the inhabitants here. Now, let's find my favourite grumpy assassin to decide what's next!_

Going out of the cliffs' tunnels, Jarlaxle had however the disagreeable surprise of finding Catti-Brie, her right arm resting on the nicely shaped curves of her hip, a look of clear anger towards him, and blocking his path on that.

"Ye!" she hissed.

"Greetings Catti-Brie!", he said with a broad grin, his large hat sweeping the grass. "I did not remember you so radiant and well adjusted! A real shame we couldn't see each other more often. Have you done something to your hair?"

"Don't try to confuse me, Jarlaxle. I know what ye are and what ye are capable of. Where's Drizzt?"

Jarlaxle raised a thin chalk-white eyebrow. Women were _so_ predictable. The girl would be whining to get her sweet would-be paladin back, until she would realize how much sexier and more interesting Jarlaxle could turn out to be.

"My dear, I'm afraid I don't know. Well, at least, I've got an inkling about his current situation. Drizzt must be with Artemis, somewhere by the lakeshore to find a Halfling and maybe sorting out his frustrations with Arte..."

"Entreri! Why is he here? And why are ye here anyway?"

"Nothing particular, let's simply say we came here to rescue you, the _demoiselle en détresse_. Artemis and I have accompanied your dearly beloved on his quest to find you, as my own partner had lost his Halfling on his way – he is so careless with his things... I spare you the details, the misunderstanding, the swamps, the Dragons, to announce to you that _you are saved!_"

His grin, if it was still possible, became even broader, hiding his real feeling. He did not care one bit about the girl, and wanted just to catch up with the others. Yet, he knew that he had to deal with her, like it or not. Therefore, charming as ever, he grabbed the girl's arm and dragged her behind him on his way to the bungalow, ignoring her dwarfish groans. Discovering that the shed was empty was no small surprise and the Drow went as far as to rummage through the empty dusty crates that paved the hut's floor. Artemis and Drizzt were simply nowhere to be seen.

"So?" asked Catti-Brie.

"Hum... It seems as if I have just encountered a delay. But don't worry, I'll find..."

Still mumbling, he went out of the shed, floundering in the lake's placid waters. His keen eyes and ears told him that there was nobody around, except for a few birds in the distant jungle. He turned around, to meet Catti-Brie's unfriendly gaze.

"Dear, don't look at me like that; I don't know where they are! I mean, they're worse than kids are, you can't leave them alone a few minutes without losing them..."

Nevertheless, in spite of his exasperation, Jarlaxle was anxious... and then, slowly, parsimoniously, as vicious as a snake, anxiety let its place to angry bitterness. They had left him alone. Did he not deserve to be part of the adventure? Had he to stay behind? Why was Artemis so ungrateful, after all he had done for him, sacrifying his blooming trade in Menzoberranzan to travel all around the realms...? The whole situation was unfair!

The swirl of his thoughts must have appeared clearly on his handsome face, for Catti-Brie seemed to calm down. At least, she was not mad at Jarlaxle anymore, which was indeed progress.

"Don't ye have an idea...?"

"No, in the Nine Hells I don't! Dwavhel was supposed to be here! With Artemis! And Drizzt! Now they have gone, leaving me with a capricious spoilt girl to look after!"

Jarlaxle did not lose his temper often, but when he did, he was every bit as bad as the hysteric females of his hometown.

"Don't be stupid Jarlaxle; Drizzt wouldn't have left _me_ behind, especially if he has come all this way to rescue _me_!"

The truth and the common sense within Catti-Brie's sayings were indeed unmistakable. Jarlaxle did his best to smile again, examining the possibilities given to him. Yes, indeed, Drizzt should have stayed to make sure his dwarfish princess was alright, but then, where was he? Bah! Even with his strange behaviour, the young ranger was still a Drow, so potentially a dangerous creature able to defend himself. No need to worry. As for Entreri, he also could have been born with a dark skin and snow-white hair... Anyway...

"Dear", he decided finally, "I am afraid I have to leave you. I do not know where your knight in shining armour has disappeared, as I don't have the foggiest idea where _my_ assassin is, so I guess I'm going to ask for help among my mercenaries. I imagine Nybalki... whatever... would be ravished by the idea of bringing you back somewhere out of the swamps."

The Drow had the firm intention of leaving in an impressive firework and explosion of sounds and blinding lights, but the young woman caught him firmly by the wrist.

"Nay! Ye're not going anywhere! At least, not without me! I don't wanna deal with another cursed dragon and I wanna find Drizzt!"

Jarlaxle suppressed a grimace of sheer disgust. Lloth. All Mighty. Impending headache in sight. His mind examined the whole question a thousand times before he chose the best – yet annoying – solution. The prospect of bringing Catti-Brie to Menzoberranzan was certainly not the nice trip back he had hoped for, but curiously, he felt that leaving her on her own in the middle of nowhere would not produce any kind of benefit neither.

He sighed softly.

Both of them disappeared in a flash of light.

Into the lion's mouth.

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**Hope you liked it, and don't forget to leave a review!!**

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	14. The Darkness within

**Hi Everybody!!! Yeah, I know, I know... it's been a while, I'm such a lazy cow... But, you know, I've been pretty busy! My entering the university, NaNoWriMo during November, now I should be studying for my exams but you know what, it was Christmas, and I thought it would be kind to update.**

**It's pretty strange, because I know that the events of this chapter are a bit of a sudden. But I was stuck, and I wanted the story to go on. So here we are. If you have any comment, please, please review, because it's always a pleasure to read from you. You guys rock and make my days. And above all it's really easy now, you just have to click on the greenish button at the end of the text.**

**So, _bonne lecture et je vous souhaite à toutes et à tous de bonnes fêtes de fin d'année !_  
**

Chapter Thirteen: _The Darkness within_

As soon as it began, Entreri knew it was a dream. The corner of his eyes sent back a strange blurry impression, and he had the feeling he inhabited his body, but at the same time outside of it, watching the whole scene in silence.

Moreover, as soon as it began, Entreri felt uncomfortable. He was not accustomed to dreams: his nights were shallow wells of unconsciousness, disturbed only by sounds of the waking life around him. In fact, he would never allow himself to sink into deep sleep, for he wanted to be ready; what for was not really his concern. However, aboard the _Sea Sprite_, things were entirely different. There were no evil and greedy pashas, nor unpredictable dark elves full of bad intentions. There was only Drizzt, who had smoothly sunk into Reverie a few minutes before. There was only the faint murmur of the sea singing against the keel, the calm and comforting cracking sounds of the mast, the steady breathing of Drizzt. Drizzt. In spite of everything, and even if he would never admit it, Artemis felt asleep in peace, for Drizzt was there.

Therefore, yes, it was a dream. He stood in a clearing, in a forest that looked like that of the Spine of the World. Tall and slender conifers overwhelmed by a pure and untouched snow, in the dead of winter, slowly swayed their branches in a mute wind all around him. He felt cold, and his teeth were chattering. He only wore the clothes he had when he had gone to sleep. In the bushes, something moved, only revealing to be a tiny orange and white fox wandering among the trees.

Then, the whole scenery turned, and all the colours changed. The brightness of the snow darkened, the sky lost its frozen blue and soon was invaded by dark and disturbing clouds. And he was not alone anymore.

Or maybe he was.

For, standing right in front of him, was... himself. Or more precisely, his dark reflection in a mirror. His other self was draped in a large dark cloak, bare feet, smiling slightly, but in a way Artemis did not know or had never met in the mirror.

_Greetings, Artemis Entreri._

The _thing_ in front of him never once opened his mouth. But its voice, deep and velvety, had invaded the clearing.

_I thought you would understand faster. Who could I be, after all?_

Artemis, then, knew. The Shade he had killed, the essence he had absorbed, the life he had taken. But why here? How? The assassin wished he had his sword, or at least a weapon to defend himself, but the logic of dreams is not that of reality.

_Fear me not, Master, I am no enemy. Not anymore. Indeed, I mean you no harm, and I think you had a foretaste of the powers you took from me into my death. I just want you to discover the hidden possibilities you have not yet explored._

And, as curious as it could seem, Artemis trusted the Shade. He was standing in a world where lies did not exist by themselves, and things were so different... That strange creature that looked like him was telling the sheer truth.

"What is the price?", Artemis asked then, his own voice hollow and disembodied.

_There is no price._

But then, Artemis knew there was something wrong.

"What is the price?", he repeated.

_There is no price, but a concession. If you want to become the Shade, your gauntlet will prevent you from using the totality of your new perspectives. Yes, I know what you think. The vulnerability, the danger. Let me answer as simply: power, and control._

Artemis nodded. That was fair enough.

A sinister laugh filled the clearing.

_Let me introduce you to the Darkness within, Master._

Artemis woke up with a start, his breath short and erratic. He stood up, glancing all around him, as if he was checking his own self was not chuckling somewhere near. But there was nothing but the slight song of the sea, the intense whisper of the waves against the keel.

However, his agitation had alerted Drizzt. The dark elf got out of his hammock and stared at him with bewildered eyes.

"Artemis? Is everything alright?" His voice sounded hoarse and unsure.

He had even unsheathed a scimitar, Twinkle by its bluish glowing.

"... Yes. Bad dream."

Oh, great, that sounded _so_ ridiculous. The assassin just strangled a sigh and lay down again in his own hammock. He was not so surprised to discover that Drizzt's doubts were not that easily discarded. The ranger went beside him, his lavender eyes glowing slightly.

"What kind of dream?"

That time, Artemis did not conceal his contempt and exasperation: "None of your business."

Silence fell between them, as sharp as a blade. Drizzt broke it with impatience.

"Whatever, if you feel the need to talk, you know where to find me."

The assassin hated to appear so fragile, so influenced, so weak, so easily disturbed. So human. He wrapped himself in his coarse blanket, turning his back to the elf. And suddenly, he sensed it. He felt it. He knew that it had been there since the beginning, lying in wait, and that he could not deny it any longer.

The underlying sensuality, the untold fight for dominance, the unseen game.

Yes indeed, he could not deny it, but was not able to accept it all the same. He wrapped himself more tightly, and closed his eyes to dispel the latent truth. Curse the Drow and his so-called friendship. Curse the power that ran in his veins, showing him things he preferred being still concealed.

He dreamed again. Of shadows, flares and burning eyes.

* * *

Days passed, slow, morose and all alike. Once, when Artemis woke up, he felt sick. Of course, he had been ill in his life – but not since he had killed the Shade, which was worth noticing, but not in that way. It was as if his body was excessively small for his mind, as his spirit was stretching out in every direction, sending waves of pain in his spine. He knew it was the price to pay, for everything around him had strangely _changed_. Maybe it was colours in the air, new smells, but his environment seemed familiar... and at the same time, extremely new. And his spirit had opened to feelings all around, to new levels of apprehending. And _that_ was disturbing.

Drizzt worried about him. He kept glancing his way, frowning, murmuring in Drow through clenched teeth. The whole day was one of silence between the two companions. Respectfully, the dark elf stayed away, understanding without saying so the assassin needed some time alone.

In a corner of his mind, Artemis appreciated that behaviour. As far as Jarlaxle was concerned, he would have been clacking all day long.

However, when night came, the Drow's curiosity obviously won the battle. Artemis was in their cabin, sharpening his throwing knives. They exchanged glances, and Artemis lowered his eyes.

"Don't want to talk about it", he snapped.

"You don't even know what I'm going to say!", the young elf protested.

The temptation of answering "I sense it" was indeed strong. However, giving the secret away was not something that was that tempting.

Drizzt rolled his eyes and sat on a chest, his shoulders down.

"Listen Artemis. I know things are getting weird, lately."

"That's the understatement of the century."

"But anyway", Drizzt went on, "I know there's definitely something wrong with you. Now nothing forces you to tell me what, but since we are partners in order to defeat Kimmuriel, I... Well, I think I have the right to wonder if you will be able to fight."

"Liar. You just made up that stupid excuse."

"... Yes, I did. But wait a second, how could you know that!"

Artemis chuckled. Drizzt's naivety was so... cute. Yes, he lied, but it was out of real concern, out of sheer _friendship_. Now that the assassin was able to perceive that course of action, somehow, serenity made its way in his mind.

"I'm fine," Artemis sighed. "When... When I'm ready, I'll talk to you about it, but don't ask me again."

It seemed fair to the Drow. He nodded, burying his face in his hands.

"Is Jarlaxle...", he saw the man's shoulders sensibly tense but went on nonetheless, "Is he always like that? Exuberant, laughing, invincible?"

"Always, yeah." _This is precisely where my misfortune lies._

"Well, stop me if you don't care or think I'm a fool; I'm sure it's just a mask he wears to face the entire world, a way to hide his feelings, his vulnerable core."

"Everybody wears such a mask", Artemis simply said, his voice low and emotionless.

"I don't", Drizzt said after a while, his eyes prisoners of the repetitive gestures of his companion on his reddish sword. "The only mask I've worn, I left it behind long time ago."

Artemis stopped his sharpening, glancing Drizzt's way. That was the truth, as surprising as it could seem to be. "Do you think I'm wearing a mask?"

Drizzt preferred not to hesitate. "Yes, I do. You tack old lies on your face, and they are the harder to get rid of. Maybe, deep inside, within the soft flesh of your soul, beyond all the pretence, maybe there's still honesty, hope, and..."

His voice died away. Nevertheless, the last word hung up in the air, like the final note suggested by a simple harmony. Their eyes met, but Artemis's remained stone-like.

"There's only darkness within," he whispered.

He closed his eyes, images of the _Shade_ playing in his mind. He jumped when he felt Drizzt soft hand on his own. His first reaction was to jerk away, but somehow he resisted the urge to wait. When he opened his eyes, they locked with the dark elf's, slightly glowering in the new twilight.

"If there was only darkness, Artemis, you wouldn't protect the ones you care about."

The assassin felt the irrepressible urge to deny, but it would have been ludicrous. After all, he had saved Drizzt's life on one or two occasions, and he was still trying to rescue Dwavhel from Kimmuriel. He knew he was stupidly blushing, but just could not help it. Drizzt's face was so close; if he leant forward, just an inch, their foreheads would be touching.

"If there was only darkness, I wouldn't be helping you." Drizzt went on, not louder than a light whisper.

Artemis also knew where this was going, and preferred not to think of all its terrible consequences. He felt the soft breath of the Drow against his own mouth. The voice that came then was barely audible.

"If there was only darkness, I wouldn't..."

Their lips locked, for a brief instant.

"LAND!" was the shout that broke their union.

Then Drizzt flew away.


End file.
